


Havoc in our head

by Blackie_xenphonex



Series: Zachariah Trevelyan, aka: Broody 2.0 [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: (In)proper use of magic, Anal Sex, Angst, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Sexual Situations, Body Worship, Bottom!inquisitor, Canon Dialogue, Comfort/Angst, Inquisitor Backstory, M/M, Oral Sex, Orlesian Balls, Orlesians, Rating May Change, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, added in missions, mentions of family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-04-03 08:47:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 25,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4094590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackie_xenphonex/pseuds/Blackie_xenphonex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zachariah Trevelyan was never a caring person. Being raised in a circle tends to make people cynical, nervous. Since no one's ever good to mages in Ferelden, he never expected to be good or considerate to anyone, nor did he expect to befriend a former Templar. Could this recluse of an inquisitor finish what had started long before he was ever involved? Could he reciprocate feelings from others? Could he learn to be a better for someone? For anyone?</p>
<p>Updated: 4/5/17 (Chapter 18)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. No say in the matter

**Author's Note:**

> I will update this once a week for as long as my brain allows it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember, Blackie looses creativity if he isn't pressed to write! Comment! Don't ever worry about typing too much and creative criticism is welcome!

Blue eyes are the first thing Dorian ever notices when he meets the herald. Eyes bluer than the sky before the breach. The next was that the herald was a mage. A very skilled one in fact, but he used his staff more as a spear than anything else. The last thing he noticed was the mark on the man's hand, large, green stretching across his palm and pushing energy from the rift in the chantry.

"Fascinating." Dorian says without much of a thought, "How does that work, exactly?"

When the herald remains silent he laughs to himself, though it obviously offends the man. "You don't even know, do you? You just wiggle your fingers and boom! Rift closes."

 Dorian has to pull himself from these thoughts and theories when the herald speaks.

"Who are you?" The blond asks, his hand gripping his staff at his side, tightly in defense.

"Ah." Dorian could get used to that voice. Low in the heralds chest, obviously a Ferelden noble. "Getting ahead of myself again, I see." The altus smiles, "Dorian of house Pavus, most recently of Minrathous. How do you do?"

Then it was obvious that they were more than a little cautious around Dorian. Being that he was from Tervinter and that as the southerners say "every one is a mage and everyone is a Magister in Tervinter."

When Felix finally shows up, the herald keeps an eye on Dorian. None of the other companions did. Showing that this herald was more cautious, more defensive than the rest. Dorian would have to see what could be done about that distrust that he saw so evidently in the herald's features.

* * *

 

Dorian easily listened in on the War Room. The herald did not once think or suggest that they go after the Templars instead. And it was easy to tell, the way his shoulders tensed each time the formar Templar Cullen spoke to him, no matter how considerate he sounded or kind he acted.

"...It's risky but it could work."

Dorian's queue to enter, "Fortunately you'll have help."

It seems that the herald could not turn around fast enough to him. "What are you--" The herald mouths but his voice does not come out.

"Your spies will never get past Alexius's magic without my help. So if you're going after him, I'm coming along." Dorian continues on. It's obvious that the herald wants to protest to this, but without Dorian, he's be forced to go after the Templars. Such a predicament. Handsome altus mage or Templars. He could see the decision being made in the herald's head. It's also easy to see the resignation to Dorian's demands on his features as well.

* * *

 

The moment the herald and Alexius start raising their voices, Dorian know's this will go no where good. Well, he knew this wouldn't go well anyway. But he hoped there'd be no time magic. That was apparently too much to ask for. The moment Dorian sees the amulet his hand is on his staff and he moves to incapacitate Alexius without thinking and without restraint.

Everything goes black for a moment, the next thing he knew, he and the herald had been pushed through another side of the portal. They were attacked quite immediately and the herald took the initiative, taking down one guard but being grabbed by another. He struggles until Dorian finally takes down the final guard. He looks angry, not with the guard but with Dorian. He just kicks the corpse and walks back to Dorian's side.

"Displacement." Dorian says after a moment of silence between the two, the herald looks at him, not so much angry now but confused. "It's probably not what Alexius intended. The rift must have moved us... to what? The closest confluence of arcane energy?"

"Teleportation?" The herald asks, "Or is that supposed to be on purpose?"

"Let's see. If we're still in the castle... it isn't." Dorian's is amazed it didn't take him any longer to realize. "If course!! It's not where-- it's when?"

"What...?" Was all the herald could say. His brow knits together in confusion. And Dorian could see the hope that they hadn't missed much or hadn't lost everything in the younger mage's eyes.

"Alexius used the amulet as a focus. It moved us through time!" Dorian has to explain. But the herald obviously still doesn't get it.

The blond mage just shakes his head and looks to the bared door on the other side of the room. "Then we find a way back." He mutters. His hands are shaking. It's obvious to see since Dorian was so close.

* * *

 

 

Zachariah Trevelyan of the circle of Ostwick. The herald introduces himself to Dorian in a mock tone, similar to how Dorian introduced himself, but with more sarcasm. That and the young man was out of breath and hunched over after using up so much Mana. This man must be used to using up all strength to get the battle over quickly. Dorian honestly can't understand why anyone would fight that way.

Zachariah downs a lyriam potion, groans at the taste then pushes past Dorian and on to finding his companions.

 


	2. The worst

 Zachariah was skilled but reckless, Dorian realized. When they found Cassandra and the other warrior, The Iron Bull, he could see the anger rise in the younger mage's throat. His hands gripped his staff that much tighter and his brow knitted together. His steps were heavier and quicker as well. He _wanted_ to find Alexius. And the moment they find Liliana, he's quite sure that Zachariah has the capability to butcher Alexius. Any attempt to talk to Liliana or Zachariah fails and gets no replies. Though Liliana is right, he was talking to fill silence.

The younger mage does however, butcher the spell binders that held the small pieces of red lyriam to open Alexius's door. He takes the pieces and grips them so tight that Dorian can see the imprint they leave in his hand when he hand them off so Dorian can piece together the key.

The moment Alexius is dead, Zachariah visibly relaxes. Dorian can't help but feel regret for this Alexius's death. He knelt down and took the amulet. He feels sick. "I think he wanted to die... He lost Felix and himself long ago."

What Zachariah says next shocks him. "The Alexius from our time can still be saved."

Dorian shakes himself from his thoughts and brings the amulet up to study it. "Good, it's the same one we made in Minrathous. Give me an hour to work out the spell and I--"

"An hour?!" Liliana interjects, "You need to go now!" And just as she implied, demons and Venatori begin banging on the door.

Zachariah immediately protests to this. His companions were committing suicide, for him. Liliana insisted they were already dead and pushed Zachariah back.

"You have as much time as I have arrows." That's the last words he hears from this Liliana as the doors slam behind Bull and Cassandra. And not only moments later, Cassandra's body is dropped by a fear demon.

Zachariah wants to fight, it's obvious. He takes a couple small steps forward, Dorian has to grab him before he runs. "You move and we all die!" He warns. And the look on Zachariah's face isn't anger, he's pleading with Dorian but the older mage will not let go of his arm. Darkness envelops them both and Dorian looses sight of Zachariah, but his grip on the younger man's arm lets him know he's still there.

* * *

The moment they pass through the portal, Zachariah slips from Dorian's grasp, walks to Alexius, and leans into the swing and the magister goes down quick. "It's over, Alexius." The young mage grunts and turns away. Alexius gets up, distraught and in pain. He's taken away by guards.

"Well... I'm glad that's over." Dorian mutters.

"You and me b--"

Just as Zachariah started to reply, Ferelden soldiers marched in followed by the king himself. This meant nothing good for the mages of Redcliff.

* * *

 Thank the Maker for the mercy of the king of Ferelden. The mages were handed over to the Inquisition as guests, much to a few of the herald's companions. He made the claim that forcing the people to comply will lead to nothing good. The war between Mages and Templars would not end unless mages were treated as equals. This could lead several ways, hopefully it ends well. It won't, but it could.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wish there was an option to punch Alexius in the face.... so you know... fanfiction has endless options so.... *PUNCHES ALEXIUS IN THE FACE*


	3. Could anyone be anymore awkward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for short chapters but it just seems that each part fits into a certain chapter. Forgive me. That just means that there's gonna be a lot more chapters and maybe even a couple chapters a week.

When they arrive at Haven, Dorian is the last person Zachariah talked to. He walks slowly and leans against the house Dorian stood in the shade of. "The Inquisition supports free mages." Dorian hums, "What's next? Elves running Hilamshiral? Cows milking farmers?"

"Give me time." Dorian can swear he sees a small smile tug at the circle mage's lips. "I'm sure I'll surprise you."

Dorian smirks and crosses his arms over his chest, "I suspect that's untrue... unless you strip yourself naked and allow the Chantry to flog you into repentance. Now that would surprise me."

"You seemed to enjoy thinking about that a bit too much." Zachariah hums, "Though I wouldn't blame you." He hums. Dorian raises a brow at the mage's tone and Zachariah quickly looks away. The tips of his ears were actually turning red.

"I do wonder, though... have you considered what this support of yours will do? For mages in general, I mean. This might as well be like... well, inviting mages of the south to be like mages back home."

Zachariah replies without thought and it comes out as yet another flirty gesture. Not that Dorian minds it. "If that means that they're anything like you, I approve." The blond smiles slightly. Dorian doesn't know if it's just a compliment or if he's just messing with the Tervinter mage.

"Ha!" Dorian let out a sarcastic laugh, a bit embarrassed for letting it get too loud. "There aren't many mages back home like me." He continues.

"I'd believe that."

"I never fit in." Dorian clicked his tongue, "Bloodstains are so difficult to clean, you see." The blond laughs quietly, sweetly, a kind of laugh he'd have to hear again. Zachariah obviously was still stiff around Dorian, but he was relaxing. There was hope to remove that stick up his arse yet.

"I--I wanted to talk to you about Alexius... have you seen him yet?" Zachariah drops the smile and he's serious again.

"Mm, not yet. I saw him on the way to the cells. He seemed... despondent." Dorian replies. "I can only hope whom ever is in charge will show him mercy."

"I guess I hope for that too." Zachariah mutters. Was he actually trying to sympathize with Dorian? If so he was doing a terrible job at it. "I um... I should go." The mage clears his throat, gives Dorian an awkward wave and leaves. Dorian can almost see how red Zachariah's face actually is.

* * *

* * *

Maker, everything has been fucked twice to Sunday. Zachariah is arguing with Cullen, both trying to find a way out of this. There's no way that anyone will survive with that...thing outside. And their first resort is to bury everyone under a mountain. And though Dorian hasn't known the circle mage long, he's never seen anyone more scared and angry than he was. Then, there was the demon... spirit. What ever it was, it was trying to help. And it could obviously read minds since it could tell that the weasel Rodrick had something to say.

Then, Zachariah was just angry. No longer scared for the people, now that they had their way out. "Cullen, get everyone out. Bull, Cassandra... Dorian, come with me. When I signal you to run, you run. No questions." The way the circle mage paused at Dorian's name, he could tell he wasn't thinking about who was better... it was who he trusted more. After all, it seemed that Dorian was the only mage that Zachariah voluntarily talked to. None (except for a small groan from The Iron Bull) protested.

* * *

* * *

The moment Dorian sees the dragon, he knows Zachariah can see it to. He tells everyone to run. He doesn't have to tell them twice, though Dorian does worry. There was no way out for the mage, cornered by something that looked an archdemon something with red lyriam growing out of his face, twice the size of Zachariah, and obviously angry. Dorian will hate himself forever if the herald didn't live.

* * *

Dorian witnessed a flare being shot up to signal Zachariah and he heard the snap of a rope, it was too loud to ignore, then the rumbling of a damn mountain being dropped on Haven, no one could survive that. All attempts to bury the army of Red Templars succeeded. It was too much to hope for that the archdemon was too slow to get out of the way. He then heard a few men and women sob. They knew their herald was dead, along with any chance for a way to close rifts. Everything was silent, but it was obvious. There were not words that needed to be said. He could hear some cries from the villagers, some soldiers. This was not what Dorian signed up for. Not damn archdemon, not that thing... what ever it was. But he'd be damned if he were to back out now.

"There he is!" Dorian heard Cullen yell and he quickly turned to see Zachariah shivering and on his knees, holding his own hand, the one with the mark. "Thank the maker." he heard Cassandra second. The two hooked their arms under Zachariah's and that is when the circle mage went limp, unconscious. He was quickly laid down and much to the surprise of the healers and Dorian himself, the man has come out relatively unscathed. Besides a couple bruises, claw marks, and exhaustion. It would seem that this bullheaded mage could survive anything. Attacked by demons. Nothing short of amazing.

Dorian sat down next to the cot that the mage had been laid on. "You mad bastard." He huffs and though he hadn't noticed it before, a knot in his chest loosened and Dorian felt he could breathe again.

"Th'nks for the compliment..." He hears the young man grunt.

Dorian can't help but grin. "Sleep, no doubt you'll be questioned like mad come first light." The younger mage actually listens to him.

And as if on queue, as Dorian got up from an hour of 'resting his eyes', the advisers plus Cassandra begin arguing. Dorian's sure that he's missed much of that argument given that Zachariah was already up and talking to the revered mother. He heard a small part of their conversation, Zachariah saying that the advisers having actually been at it for hours. Dorian was a heavier sleeper than he had originally thought.

Maker, what was this, a play? Some book where the hero always wins? Mother Giselle began singing, then the rest of the camp. They lost everything and now everyone was singing. At least in the fight against Templars, mages knew when they were beaten. Then everyone started kneeling. Mother Giselle walked to Zachariah's side, a knowing look upon her face. "An army needs more than an enemy. It needs a cause."

And as the revered mother left him be, Solas was there to take her place and lead the young mage off. It would be the last that Dorian would see of Zachariah for quite some time.

* * *

Zachariah marched in silence, though Solas seemed to be intentionally walking at his heals. And just as they came up over a steep incline, the mage stopped. And for once, Dorian could see happiness in this man's eyes. 

 


	4. Thank the maker, or whatever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 6/12/15  
> Some more writting has been added to chapter three today, if you haven't read it you may be missing somethings. (Nothing if you've played the game.) Honestly this might be a ling chapter. I apologize if I'm too detailed.

Everyone seemed to settle in nicely to Skyhold. A large fortress that did live up to it's name, that and being damn near impossible to reach without knowing the proper way up. And the moment they got there, people started to work, clean, and organize. It was close to a week before Zachariah could even get out of his armor. Needless to say, it was unpleasant. But with a bath and the best damn luck in the world for finding some clothes in Skyhold that actually fit him, he felt himself again...more or less.

He walked from a room beside the gate as Cullen, Lilliana, Josephine and Cassandra talked. It must have been something important and Zachariah missed it. Cassandra waved him over and walked with him. "They arrive daily from every settlement in the region." She hums, gesturing to the people now working in Skyhold. There were many more than what they had come with from Haven. "Sky hold is becoming a pilgrimage."

"If word has reached these people, it will have reached The Elder One." She continues. Zachariah tenses subconsciously, that was one mental image he would give anything to scrub from his mind. "We have the walls and numbers to put up fight here," She reassures him. "but the threat is far beyond the war we anticipated. We now know, at least, what drew Corypheus to you.

"He's a mad man hungry for power. I don't care what drew him to me."

"You're determination brought us out of Haven, Herald." Cassandra starts to lead him up the steps that lead into the largest building in Skyhold. "You are that creature's rival because of what you did, and we know it. All of us."

Zachariah begins slowing down behind her. Where was she going with all this? "The inquisition requires a leader: the one who has already been leading it." No. This is now what Zachariah wanted. He wanted away from all of this. This bloody mark was keeping him here and by helping he could have left, if it weren't for Coryphus he could have been gone from here.

"What if I don't want this?" Zachariah mutters, staring down at the sword in Lilliana's hands.

Cassandra scowls, "You've been leading the inquisition this whole time. You are one of the many who live in Thadas. This means nothing with out that mark or you."

Zachariah shakes his head and takes the sword in his hand. "With fear running rampant, they need to see a mage standing for what's right." The blond bit his tongue  so he wouldn't add on an 'I suppose' or something along those lines. "I'll defeat Corypheus standing with them, not over them." If he were to become this inquisitor, there was no way in the void that he would stand behind the lines. After all, he had the mark so he was kind of the only person who could make headway against rifts anyhow.

* * *

 

"Brilliant, isn't it?" Dorian says. Zachariah can't really tell if Dorian's tone is angry or something different entirely. "One moment you're trying to restore order in a world gone mad. That should be enough for anyone to handle, yes?" Zachariah still can't tell if he's being rhetorical or not. He's never been one for conversations, especially with someone as talkative as Dorian is. "Then, out of nowhere, an archdemon appears and kicks you in the head." Rhetorical. "'What!? You thought this would be easy?'"

Dorian continued on the conversation by himself. "'No! I was just hoping you wouldn't crush our village like an anthill.'"

"'Sorry about that! Archdemons like to crush, you know. Can't be helped.'" Zachariah, honestly wasn't following where any of this was going, and he didn't really know if he could reply to any of this. "Am I speaking to quickly or you?"

Zachariah might have internally panicked, just a bit. And thus the filter between his brain and his voice suddenly disappeared. "I was distracted, that's all."

"Distracted? By my wit and charm? I have plenty of both." Dorian smirks. Zachariah blushes, out of embarrassment for himself of course. Though considering anything he was going to say next would probably determine if Dorian would hate him or not. Enough people hated him already, he really didn't need to be a ' _cold bastard_ ' as Blackwall put it.

"How interesting to find someone so aware of his strengths." _Shit._

Dorian's smirk only grows, "I'm a man of many talents. What can I say?" _Thank the maker. I'm not a dick._ Thankfully, Dorian changes the topic easily.

"I always assumed the "Elder One" Behind the Venatori was a magister, but this... this something else completely." Zachariah made a sound to agree with him. "In Tevinter, they say that Chantry's tales of magisters starting the blight were just that, tales. But here we are. One of those very magisters. A darkspawn."

"Worst shit to happen since the last blight..." Zachariah leans against one od the book cases. "But um... why does that make you angry?"

"Because the Imperium is my home." Dorian's face contorted in sadness. Zachariah felt he should have known the obvious, thought... it still wasn;t obvious to him. "I knew what I was taught couldn't be the whole truth, but I assumed there had to be a kernel of it. Somewhere. But no..." Dorian shakes his head. "It was us all along. _We_ destroyed the world."

"You didn't do anything. Those men did. A thousand years ago... so..." Zachariah wasn't good at this whole cheering up thing at all.

"True, except that one of them is up and walking around right now."

"I wouldn't really call what he did walking... more like... angry hovering." That made Dorian smile a bit. Maybe he wasn't so bad at it. Then Dorian sighs.

"No one will thank me, whatever happens. No one will thank you, either. You know that, yes?"

And for once, Zachariah didn't know that. He actually felt optimistic, despite the disaster back at Haven. "We don't know what will happen. Nobody does."

Dorian's eyes go wide and he laughs. The younger mage doesn't get why what he said was so funny. "An optimist!"  _Oh._ "Such a rare breed. I've stumbled upon a unicorn!"

"Alright, laugh it up. Very funny." Zachariah grunts and crosses his arms over his chest.

"I'm only teasing." Dorian chuckles. "All I know is this. Corypheus needs to be stopped."

"You don't need to tell me that. Tell that to the probable thousands that follow him." Zachariah agrees and Dorian slips past him. He turns back with a small congratulating smile, "Oh. And congradulations on that whole leading the inquisition thing, by the way."

The younger mage gives a small nod before walking off. Maybe he can do the whole non-cynical thing after all. Or... then again, it's always easier talking to mages. And he still had Cullen to talk to...


	5. Familiarity and Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out my blog! There you can see more art, get updates, and see some funny posts! (Self-promoting at it's finest.)  
> Tisdamyownya.tumblr.com

Zachariah's favorite place was the library. A corner not too far from Dorian's, near the beast research table. He's either spend time there, with The Iron Bull, or actually talking to Cullen, much to Dorian's own surprise.

The man didn't have a chair and mostly sat on the floor behind a wall of books that he made himself. He'd usually walk in and brush past Dorian without much of a hello. On occasion, Zachariah would ask questions or ask Dorian for help with certain parts of books, things he didn't understand, or things he couldn't translate. In all honesty, Solas would be more help than Dorian was. One day Dorian decided to ask.

"Why don't you ask Solas about this stuff?" Dorian asks after Zachariah points out what he couldn't understand.

" _Shit_. I'm bothering you, aren't I?" The blond snaps the book shut quickly. "Varric said I needed to work on that..." He groans.

_Shit_ was right. Dorian said the wrong thing and offended Zachariah. "No, no. Don't misunderstand me. I love that you think I'm brilliant and all, but wouldn't Solas better explain this?"

"Yes, but... you're closer." Zachariah replies.

_Seriously?_ "Just because you don't want to go down a flight of stairs and come back up?"

"What? No!" The younger mage facepalms, "I meant... Solas is fine but I know you better... I suppose."

_Oh. OH. He's trying to be nice?_ "You could have just said so. But you might want to lower you're volume, Inquisitor. We are, in fact, in a library and I don't want to make Solas jealous of our friendship."

"Don't make me laugh." He heard the elf snort from below.

"Eavesdropping? Really? I thought you better than that, Solas!" Dorian laughs. He can practically hear Solas rolling his eyes.

* * *

One day the Inquisitor walks past Dorian holding a letter, a long one. Several pages long, written on front and back and Dorian can feel the brooyness coming off Zachariah. He leaves the young mage alone for a while until he hears what he knows is Zachariah hitting his head on the bookshelf. He wanders around the wall of books and looks down at the sitting mage.

"Spare the bookshelf. It's done nothing to you." Dorian smirks.

"I dunno. It dropped a book on my head yesterday." Zachariah gives one of the lopsided half smiles that Dorian oddly likes.

"Don't you dare." The mage frowns.

"I only had my shelf to blame." Zachariah laughs quietly and pushes himself up to stand, shoving the letter into his back pocket.

Dorian groans and pushes Zachariah softly. "So... I am curious to know what warranted you distressing over a letter. Is it something one of the servant girls wrote you? Because I've seen those, it's atrocious."

The younger mage shakes his head. "It's from my mother. Long letter for a couple short questions. Where are you? Why aren't you in a circle? Are you making a mess of things? and Can we profit from this?"

"Oh. Dreadful thing, Family." Dorian mutters, he can understand this though.

"Yeah. Especially my family. Only mage in a family full of Templars, it's great really."

"Well, I suggest not even replying. Or send them a letter with all of the answers they don't want to hear."

"I'm not known for having a sense of humor and neither is my family. The sarcasm would be wasted on them. They'd take it seriously." The blond sighs, obviously distressed. Dorian stares at Zachariah for a moment, hoping he's joking, but he's not. His family is really that blunt. "It's fine though. No need to worry about me, Dorian."

"Me? Worried? You must have me confused with some other hand some Tevinter mage." Dorian deflects.

"Ah yes. Must be the mustache." Zachariah laughs quietly and pulls the letter from his back pocket, only to burn it in his palm.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right now, I'm kinda forcing myself to write. It'll be okay once I have a story line thought out. :/


	6. It's a start

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING FOR A MONTH!
> 
> YOU MUST HAVE AN IDEA ON HOW HARD IT IS TO WRITE!

 

With a plot on the empress's life and now with the possible involvement of the wardens, Zachariah didn't sleep. Vivienne was drilling him on Orlesian etiquette and teaching him how to put on the same facade that she had during the Orlesian game. It felt more than strange to fake niceties. This combined with his own training to become a necromancer and constant war meetings to get more information on the wardens.

Zachariah eventually forced himself into his inquisitorial duties and he met with Varric on the battlements. Hawke wasn't what he expected to say the least. He was a young man, slightly older than Zachariah but he definitely didn't look it. He had bright red hair that hung near his eyes, blood markings shaped his face, and faded green eyes that were somewhat unsettling no matter how young Hawke looked. "Inquisitor, the champion of Kirkwall." Varric introduces him and Hawke's voice does not fit him. It isn't young, it's a deeo Ferelden baritone, which confuses Zachariah even more.

They end up talking for a while and the younger mage actually got to know more about Anders. The one who freed the circles. He didn't see the man as a hero and neither did Hawke. Though the red head knew much more than he was letting on. "Why isn't he with you?" Zachariah asks.

"I'm never really happy leaving Anders alone... but when the wardens started acting strangely, I had no choice." Hawke replies. Zachariah can see the question bothered him and he left the man alone on the subject.

* * *

 

When Zachariah arrives in the main hall where Mother Giselle was waiting for him with a letter in hand. "My lord inquisitor, it is good of you to speak with me." She starts. Zachariah never liked talking to chantry mothers or any one of the chantry. He had nothing against the people but he felt it unsettling and odd each time they talked.

"I have news regarding one of your... companions. The Tervinter."

Zachariah straightens and folds his arms over his chest. "What has he done?" He asks. He's quite ready to defend his friend if she were to accuse him of something.

She shakes her head and holds out the letter to the mage. "I have been in contact with his family: House Pavus, out of Qaurinus. Are you familiar with them?"

Zachariah shakes his head and takes the letter. This wasn't good. If his family some how convinced Dorian to leave... what would happen then? Zachariah didn't know why he was so worried about it. "He's mentioned his family. They don't seem to be on good terms." he replies.

"The family sent a letter describing the estrangement from their son and pleading for my aid. They've asked to arrange a meeting. Quietly, without telling him."  Zachariah knows all too well that Dorian and Mother Giselle loath each other to say the least. And many of his companions knew that Zachariah was a bad liar, the guilt of not telling would eat him alive or the fact that he can't keep a calm tone when he lies.  "They fear it's the only way he'll come," She continues. "Since you seem to be on good terms with the young man, I'd hoped..."

"If you think I'm going to trick Dorian into meeting his family..." Zachariah has to refrain from a harsh tone. He loathed lying to his friends and to anyone else. Though it was mostly a reflex to being in the circle. Even if he told the truth, the Templars thought he was lying.

Mother Giselle lets out a sigh, most likely getting fed up with the young Trevelyan. "I feared you might say that. The family will send a retainer to meet the young man at the Redcliffe Tavern to take him onward."  Onward to where? Zachariah asked himself. There would have been the chance that they would just take Dorian and leave. "If he truly does not with this reunion, he can always end the matter there."

Zachariah doesn't really listen to the revered mother and leaves. He agonizes over the letter the whole day, even during his training with Bull, who was teaching him how to use his staff as a spear if he couldn't do close up magic. When he's practicing on a dummy, Dorian comes up behind him and nearly scares him.

"You know, magic would do just fine." Dorian says. Zachariah turns around quickly and gives a light smile. The guilt is killing him now and the letter was burning a hole in his pocket.

"Yes. Well, You know me... more physical than fire." He replies and sets his staff aside. He's probably gross and sweaty now. He uses the bottom of his shirt to dry himself off, though it doesn't really help. He doesn't catch Dorian looking at his stomach. Dorian just nods with Zachariah looks back to him.

They walk for a while and some how end up back in the library and by this point, Zachariah really couldn't hold it in anymore. "Dorian..." He mutters, "There's a letter you need to see."

"A letter? Is it a naught letter? A humorous proposal from some Antivan Dowager?" Dorian jokes with a grin.

Zachariah sighs and pulls the paper from his pocket. "Not quite. It's from your father."

Dorian's tone changes quickly. "From my father." He repeats, "I see. And what does Magister Halward want, pray tell?"

"A meeting."

"Show me this letter."

Zachariah readily hands off the letter to Dorian who reads it rather quickly and with each sentence, the younger mage can see Dorian's distress and anger.

" 'I know my son?' " Dorian reads off. "What my father knows of my would barely fill a thimble. This is so typical! I'm willing to bet this 'retainer' is a henchman, hired to knock me on the head and frag me back to Tervinter."

"That would be hard to do while I stood there." Zachariah replies. He didn't really know he was this defensive of Dorian until now.

"He expects me to travel with Mother Giselle, although maker knows why he'd think I would. Let's go. Let's meet this so-called 'Family retainer.'" And that was what Zachariah feared would happen. If Dorian was somehow convinced to leave, the younger mage's most trusted friend would be gone. "If it's a trap, we escape and kill everyone. You're good at that." Dorian continues. Zachariah frowns. Of course he was good at it, but the tone Dorian used made it sound as if he enjoyed killing. "If it's not, I send the man back to my father with the message that he can stick his alarm in his 'wit's end."

"There seems to be bad blood between you and your family." The younger mage comments.

Dorian gives a small laugh, "Interesting turn of phrase. But you're correct. They don't care for my choices, nor I for theirs."

"Because you wouldn't get married? Because you left?" Zachariah asks, though he knew the answers to both his questions.

"That too."

"Then let's go meet this family retainer..."

"I wonder how much my father paid this man to wait around, just in case I showed?" Dorian sighs, "We'll find out soon enough."


	7. Something good can work

When they arrived at the tavern it was empty and dark. Zachariah had a knot in his stomach, fearing that there might be a fight.

"Uh-oh. Nobody's here. That doesn't bode well." Dorian says, practically reading Zachariah's mind. The younger mage gives a sound of agreement and looks around in worry. Then he hears footsteps other than his own and Dorian's. He puts his hand behind his back, gripping his staff, but to drawing it.

"Dorian." Zachariah hears and unfamiliar aged voice.

"Father." Dorian's expression turns to one of anger, betrayal. Zachariah stays behind him and tries to keep himself expressionless. The man was definitely Dorian's father, no doubt about it from the way they both looked.

"So the whole story about the family retainer was... what? A smoke screen?" Dorian asks, clearly not wanting to see or even speak to his father.

"Then you were told." The magister stepped forward and Zachariah resisted the urge to step back and leave. That's all he wanted now, to leave with his-- with Dorian. "I apologize for the deception, inquisitor. I never intended for you to be involved."

"Of course not." Dorian's tone rose in anger. "Magister Pavus couldn't come to Skyhold and be seen with the dread inquisitor. What would people think?"

Zachariah didn't need this to escalate any further, he places a hand on the back of Dorian's shoulder. He doesn't know what good it'll do but maybe Dorian would calm down.

"What was 'this' exactly, Father? Ambush? Kidnapping? Warm family reunion?" Dorian continues. The hand on his back doesn't calm him, it only gives him support.

The magister sighs, "This is how it has always been."

"You went through all of this to get Dorian here. Talk to him." Zachariah takes a step back. This wasn't something he was sure he should be involved in.

"Yes, Father. Talk to me. Let me hear how mystified you are by my anger." Dorian's tone raises.

"Dorian, there's no need to--"

"I prefer the company of men. My father disapproves." Dorian confesses.

Zachariah doesn't know how to reply. He's sure that Dorian means exactly what he means but he isn't sure. "I-I'll need you to explain that..." Zachariah mutters, hoping he doesn't sound stupid.

"Did I stutter? Men, and the company thereof. As in sex. Surely you've hear if it." Dorian turns to Zachariah, the same angry look he gave his father, still on his face. There's a moment of silence before Zachariah can think of the proper thing to say.

"I've more than heard of it, actually."  _Shit! It was a complete lie._ Zachariah's face turns a subtle red, he's sure Dorian caught it.

" _No!_ The Herald of Andraste? I am shocked and scandalized."

"Such Sarcasm."

"You're not exactly subtle, oh Lord Inquisitor." Dorian's mood seems to lift for a moment.

"I should have known that's what this was about." Magister Pavus interjects.

"No. You don't get to make those assumptions. You know nothing about the inquisitor." Dorian snaps.

"This was not what I wanted."

"I'm never what you wanted, Father. Or had you forgotten?"

"That's.... a big concern in Tervinter, then?" Zachariah asks.

"Only if you're trying to live up to an impossible standard." Dorian replies then turns right back to his father. Zachariah knew the feeling. "Every Tervinter family is intermarrying to distill the perfect mage, perfect body, perfect mind. The perfect leader. It means every perceived flaw-- every aberation-- is deviant and shameful. It must be hidden."

There was more than just anger in Dorian's voice now. Betrayal, sadness, agression. Zachariah knew the feelings all too well. But if there was a way to make the Magister see...

Magister Pavus lowered his head.

Zachariah takes in a deep breath and though it wasn't the best idea, he spoke his mind. "Your father might be here to reach out. You could give him a chance."

Dorian shakes his head and starts to walk toward the door with Zachariah following behind. "Let's just go."

"Dorian, please. If you'll only listen to me." The magister begs and Dorian turns to walk to his father, angry once again.

"Why? So you can spout more convenient lies?  _He_ taught me to hate blood magic. "The resort of the weak mind." Those are  _his_ words." Dorian explains. "But what was the first thing you did when your precious heir refused to pretend for the rest of his life? You tried to... change me." That's when Zachariah get's a knot in his stomach. He knows all too well what Dorian meant by change.

"I only wanted what was best for you!" The magister defends.

"You wanted the best for _you_! For your _fucking legacy_! _Anything_ for that!" Dorian snaps then walks away.

Zachariah comes to his side. This is closure Dorian may never get the chance to have again. Much more than Zachariah has ever had.

"Don't leave it like this, Dorian. You'll never forgive yourself." He says quietly. Dorian glances at him, he knows the mage just wants to leave.

"Tell me why you came." Dorian demands, walking to his father once more.

"If I knew I would drive you to the Inquisition--"

"You didn't! I joined the inquisition because it's the right thing to do!" Dorian interjects. "Once I had a father who would have known that."

With that, Dorian is done and ready to leave. Zachariah can see he's done arguing, trying to justify himself. He didn't need to.

"Once I had a son who trusted me. A trust I betrayed." The magister confesses. And it's what Dorian needed to hear.

Dorian looks to Zachariah, questioning whether or not he should stay. Zachariah gives a small nod and walks out, leaving the two alone to work everything out.

* * *

 

They meet back at Skyhold in Dorian's corner of the library. Dorian leaned against the stone near the window, solemn but something seemed better now. "He says we're alike. Too much pride." Dorian sighs once Zachariah is close enough. "Once, I would have been overjoyed to hear him say that. Now I'm not certain. I don't know if I can forgive him."

"He tried to change you?" Zachariah asks, though he knows that Dorian's father must have tried something similar to tranquility.

"Out of desperation. I wouldn't put on a show, marry the girl, keep everything private and locked away." Dorian turned to Zachariah. It obviously hurt to talk about, but he knew it needed to be said. "Selfish, I suppose, not to want to spend my entire life screaming on the inside."

"It's not, Dorian." Zachariah says quietly, if only to convince Dorian that he wasn't.

"He was going to do a blood ritual. Alter my mind. Make me... acceptable." Dorian's voice wavered. "I found out. I left."

"Are you alright?" The younger mage asks, placing a hand to Dorian's shoulder, much like he had earlier to support him.

"No. Not really." Dorian replies. "Thank you for bringing me out there. It wasn't what I expected, but... it's something. Maker knows what you must think of me now, after that whole display." Dorian huffs.

"I think you're brave." Zachariah gives a soft smile. Dorian returns it.

"At any rate, time to drink myself into a stupor. It's been that sort of day. Join me sometime, if you've a mind."

And with that, their conversation was over and they both went their separate ways for the day. Zachariah thought he should have said something different, something about how it wasn't easy doing what Dorian did. But it was too late now. Maybe in a few days, he'd get the chance to tell him.


	8. I don't have to worry

The next day, Dorian is arguing with Mother Giselle, snapping back at her accusations. "You'd be surprised at the credit my tongue gets me." With that Zachariah steps in.

"Oh, I..." Mother Giselle starts, clearly not expecting the inquisitor to get involved at to defend his friend.

"What's going on here?" Zachariah asks the obvious question, though he knows the answer.

"It seems the revered mother is concerned about my 'undue influence' over you." Dorian replies.

"It is just concern, your worship." Zachariah internally cringes at the title. "You must know how this looks."

And thus Zachariah dubbed himself the fool, he really did not know what it looked like. He liked Dorian and Dorian liked him. They spoke, maybe got a bit too flirty but Zachariah was the most awkward in that. he might have just liked Dorian more then Dorian liked him, it was something he was sure of.

"You might need to spell it out, my dear." Dorian prods.

"This man is of Tevinter. His presence at your side, the rumors alone..."

Zachariah felt a small pit of anger in is stomach at those words. Was it because he was from Tervinter? Mother Giselle couldn't be that small minded. Zachariah spent time with Dorian because he felt no reverence or selfishness from him. Dorian spoke to him as if he was normal and that was all the wanted from anyone. Most of his companions spoke to him as such as well but with Dorian it felt more natural.

"What's wrong with him being from Tevinter? Specifically?" Zachariah asks, trying to mask his angry tone, though it does slip through.

"I'm fully aware that not everyone from the Imperium is the same." Mother Giselle defends, though Zachariah is sure that the only reason she's saying it is because it's what the young mage wants to hear.

"How kind of you to notice. Yet still you bow to the opinion of the masses?" Dorian interjects.

"The opinion of the masses is based on centuries of evidence." Mother Giselle speaks in no reserved tone. The exact opposite of what she had told Zachariah. Who was she to treat Dorian or Zachariah like this? "What would you have me tell them?"

"The truth?" Dorian replies, almost seeming exhausted from the ignorance. Like he had been through this before.

"The truth is I do not know you, and neither do they. This these rumors will continue." She replies.

Zachariah grunts and crosses his arms over his chest. "The concerns of the chantry are no concern of the inquisition, mother Giselle." He frowns.

"I am aware of that. You risk, however, not only the chantry's opinion." Mother Giselle replies, almost sounding it as a threat.

"And if I asked from where these rumors originated?" Zachariah asks, easily catching mother Giselle's look. She knew.

"I... see." The revered mother takes a step back. She had crossed a line andd she knew it. "I meant no disrespect, Inquisitor. Only to ask after this man's intentions." She bows her head, "If you feel he is without ulterior motive, then I humbly bed forgiveness of you both." She bows again, sending one last look to Dorian before walking off back to her garden.

Zachariah didn't know he was so tense until now. He sighs and relaxes, letting his arms fall to his sides. He hated arguing, especially with the revered mother since so many adored her.

"She didn't get to you did she?" Zachariah turns to ask.

Dorian shakes his head. "No, it takes more to get to me than thinly veiled accusations." Dorian sighs and leans against the thick wooden banister.

"You don't think she'll do anything?" The younger mage asks. Even he didn't know if Mother Giselle could do anything.

"Do what? Yours is the good opinion I care about, not hers." Dorian's tone softens and Zachariah's cheeks dusted a light pink. He was prideful to know that Dorian thought so highly of him. "I don't know if you're aware, but the assumption in some circles is that yo and I are... intimate."

Zachariah's pride shatters the moment he can feel heat on his face. Zachariah had never said anything about it and all he had ever done was speak to Dorian, flirt, help him as much as he helped Zachariah. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed like they were if he were an outsider looking in. It wouldn't be the worst assumption they could make, could it? And after a moment, Zachariah realized he had said the previous sentence aloud. His eyes go a bit wide and the blush spreads to his ears. Oh maker, this was sure to drive Dorian off.

"I don't know, is it?" Dorian asks, not giving away anything.

"Do you always answer a question with a question?" the younger man replies. Not angry at himself but nervous.

"Would you like me to answer in some other fashion?"

Zachariah can't help but let out a small chuckle at Dorian's sass. "If you're capable."

Dorian is too close before Zachariah knows what's going in. Zachariah can hear the sound of light metal against metal, probably the chains from Dorian's underarmor. He can't think straight now. Dorian's lips pressed to his, soft and considerate but taking what he wants. Zachariah is too confused and too shocked to do much else other than take it and enjoy the feeling it game him. A jump to the heart and a buzzing mind.

" 'If you're capable.' " Dorian repeats with a grin, "The nonsense you speak."

Zachariah opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again once he finds his thoughts. "You realize this makes the rumors s-somewhat true?" He asks. Catching the stutter though it's to late to make it sound natural and not nervous.

"Evidently." Dorian purrs, "We might have to explore the full truth of them later. In private." His grin only grows wider before backing off. "Who knew the Inquisitor was so inexperienced."

Zachariah turns a bright red again. It was his first kiss and he couldn't defend himself with that.


	9. Courtroom dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ball is just days away, Zachariah can't waltz if his life depended on it and Vivienne's feet have taken all the pain they can bare. Dorian is skilled in the ways of the Game and may be able to help, for a little price from Zachariah.

"And, One-Two-Three, One-Two-Three, One-two--" Vivienne jumps back in anger, this is now the fifteenth time Zachariah has stepped on her feet and her patience was at an end.

"Zachariah Trevelyan! My dear, you have-- You are grating on my last nerve. If you can't get 9 steps in then I don't know if I can teach you." The enchanter tries to keep her composure as she walks out of Zachariah's room, her heels clacking loudly and angrily on the tile. The young mage was doomed now. It was all over, he would get so much disapproval that he could not even keep his name. Banished from the Orlesian empire or worse... the Game could kill him. He groans and sits at the foot of his bed when he hears another pair of feet climb up the stairs to his bedroom.

"Am I interrupting anything?" Says a silky voice that Zachariah has come to recognize so well. The younger mage sighs and shakes his head.

"I am doomed to an eternity of left feet. I will be asked to dance with some viscountess and it will be a miracle that I will not break her feet." Zachariah groans.

"Ah well, you didn't have a very good teacher." Dorian says as he sits next to Trevelyan. It had been nearly a week since they shared a kiss and Zachariah was anything but experienced in the courting of someone else. They had done things together at the young mage's request and it had been nice. Though they had yet to share another kiss and during those sweet times, that was what Dorian was looking forward to the most. "You need a less gentle and less fragile teacher."

"You sound like you're about to suggest something." The younger mage looks to Dorian and raises a brow and the Tervinter smirks.

"Well, I am experienced with things such as this and if you're not too embarrassed about dancing with a man, then..."

"I kissed you last Sunday, I think that was the most embarrassing so far. So you are offering to help me?" Zachariah's face turns a faint pink and Dorian's grin grows wider.

"On one condition, my dear Inquisitor." The altus hums.

"And that is....?"

"You'll find out later once we've got you properly trained so you don't fall over or step on my feet."

Zachariah doesn't think twice and he stands up much to quickly, "I don't really care what it is! We are doomed if I don't learn this!" He then quickly tenses, "Well, that's what Josephine says."

"Ah, well. That settles it then. Let's make sure our Inquisitor doesn't embarrass himself into assassination." Dorian hums and stands with him. Taking Zachariah's hand into his own and placing one on his waist, gently squeezing, with makes the young mage's face turn a bright red. It would be hours until Zachariah would get this down, and with Dorian as a relentless teacher, there were no breaks till he got at least part of the song done.

* * *

Zachariah groans as he falls to his bed. He hadn't expected dancing to be this physically taxing. He's sweaty, tired and he has no idea how Dorian isn't this tired. The man is equally sweaty and had even resorted to loosening a few straps. The Inquisitor groans.

"I... I hate this.... Why did I let you do this?" He whines.

"Oh hush, at least you're not trampling about like some druffalo on the ballroom floor." Dorian replies and sits on the bed. Zachariah can hear him moving but he doesn't know what the man is doing. Suddenly he feels a substantial weight rest on his back, or more close to his ass. He then feels hands smoothing down his back. The younger mage turns his head and looks up from the corner of his eye at the Altus.

"Mmmh, what're you doing?" The Inquisitor asks.

"You're always so tense, I might as well help with that." Dorian hums and presses his hands to Zachariah's back in a way that makes a popping down in his shoulder. The younger mage groans and turns his face back into the bed. He didn't oppose this but it certainly felt.... odd.

"Is this what you wanted?" The younger mage asks.

"Oh, no. This is just a plus to my teaching you to dance. I'll get what I want later."

The younger mage grunts as he can feel his muscles loosening, he's not even sure he'll be able to sit upright, this felt so good. A lot of time passes before Dorian lays down next to him. The younger mage pushes himself up on his elbows and leans in a way to reach Dorian. He awkwardly kisses the Altus, pressing his lips gently to Dorian's. He doesn't quite know how this kind of relationship works, or how any work, but he's fine with being this close to Dorian. Though he does kind of dread what Dorian may ask of him when he recuperates.

 


	10. Why do you do this?

Dorian was far from prepared for Adamant. A large Grey Warden fortress, inhabited by Warden Mages forced into blood magic. And Dorian was left behind. Zachariah called Blackwall, Solas, and Varric to accompany him, against Dorian's wishes. He wouldn't beg Zachariah, no matter how much he wanted to go with him, though he was close to. The younger mage only shook his head and kissed Dorian goodbye, leaving him to take care of injured soldiers. If Zachariah was going to die, the least Dorian wanted was to be there to tell him... to tell him he loved him. Even if it had only been a few weeks since their feelings were addressed.

"You better come back, you bastard." Dorian mutters once Zachariah is out of ear shot.

Adamant was massive, as was the Grey Warden army. Dorian had to act as healer under Zachariah's orders, though the amount he knew of healing magic was barely enough to mend a gash. And even then, it is barely good enough. But with men burned by mage fire and some even missing limbs. This was not what Dorian signed up for. Though he knew it was happening when he fought along side the Inquisitor. Luckily there was another mage, a very powerful healer, they were even able to reattach a few limbs. He had no time to talk to Dorian but he wordlessly pointed out a few ways for the Tervinter to help. It would be hours into the battle before Dorian would hear the news of the Inquisitor's disappearance. His heart clenched at the news and yet he knew this was coming... some how.. Zachariah was gone. Without his mark, rifts couldn't be closed and now in all honesty, they had lost this battle, the world would be swallowed whole. They would never be able to really find the truth behind the divine's death. Everything was lost. But Dorian didn't care, he felt selfish but he had a right to, Dorian only cared that Zachariah might be dead.

He then felt a hand on his shoulder, the healer behind him, made a soft face as if he knew. Dorian let out a shaking breath, only time will tell, if the healer could hold out hope, Dorian would too.

"If I know Hawke well enough, he won't let the inquisitor die." The mage says with a light but tired smile.

"Maker I hope you're right." Dorian mutters.

* * *

Everything had ended, the fighting, the mages seemed freed from the control of the demon inside the rift. The tents had been moved to the larger space of the courtyard, though it makes Dorian more than a little bit nervous being so close. He can't help but stare at it. He can't see anything inside it, it's almost too bright to look at. Then everything flashes white and he covers his face quickly. He can't really see for a few seconds, but he can make out three figures, Blackwall, Solas, and Varric. Dorian rushes to Varric once he recognizes him. "Varric, where it he? Where is the inquisitor?" He asks quickly, but the dwarf looks just as worried as Dorian was.

"He was behind me sparkler." The dwarf stares at the rift.

"Maker no." Dorian gasps and looks back to the rift, and with every second it hurts even more. "You mad bastard. I told you not t--" Just as Dorian was fearing the worst, two figures tumble out of the rift, one falling to the ground, the other barely landing on his feet. A red headed Hawke and Zachariah covered in demon blood. He pants heavily and looks like he can't focus. He closes his fist, and the rift snaps closed. There was no sign of the warden  Logain.  But Dorian can only run to Zachariah and wrap his arms aorund the younger mage's center. He hadn't really noticed that Zachariah was about to fall over, but Dorian was able to get them both to the ground gently. Zachariah wrapped his arms around the Tervinter and sighs heavily. "Dorian." The mage sighs into Dorian's neck.

"You bastard." Dorian sighs and wraps his arms tighter around the younger mage, the Inquisitor winces and Dorian quickly becomes gentle. "What did you do now?"

"Oh... it's just a couple ribs." Zachariah sighs.

" **Just**." Dorian grunts and lets Zachariah go. He isn't really sure when the healer got near them, he just knows when he turned the mage knew exactly what to do. Zachriah's eyes go wide, staring at the healer. There's recognition in his eyes and Dorian isn't sure what to do.

"Anders?" The young mage gapes.

"Hush, inquisitor." The healer puts a finger to his own lips, "No one is supposed to know I'm here. It's best you hadn't too."

"What?" Dorian interjects.

"Uhm... Dorian. You know how there's a mage that started the whole breaking out of the circle thing? Well he-- SON OF A BITCH!" The young mage howls in pain as Anders presses a palm to the currently mending ribs.

"I told you to hush. No one but Hawke knows I am here, and I'd like to keep it that way."

With that the oldest of the three mages walks away, pulling a cloak on to hide his face. Dorian can only guess what Zachariah was saying. He just sighs and throws his arms around the younger mage. Zachariah wasn't one for public displays of affection, not because of the embarrassment, but the fact that he didn't know what to do in those situations. They've been working on it.

* * *

It's only a few days after Adamant that the Inquisitor comes to find Dorian again. And at the moment, he was still fuming. The thought that what if he had actually lost Zachariah that day and had never seen him again. He can't really say much, his thoughts are scattered at he searches books.

"You have remarkably little here on early Tervinter history." He says with out thought. "All these 'gifts' to the Inquisition, and the best they can do the the Malefica Imperio? Trite propaganda." He grunts.

"But if you want twenty volumes on whether Divine Galatea took a shit on Sunday, this is evidently the place to find it."

Zachariah lets out a small lough through his nose. "That's the Dorian I know: critiquing every book in my library."

"I wouldn't have to if you could find some rebellious heretic archivist to join the cause." Dorian snaps.

The inquisitor just raises a brow. "Are there rebellious archivists? Other than you, that is?" He huffs.

"If Corypheus ever starts burning masterworks of literature, I'm sure a few will pop up." Dorian sighs. "Did I see something by Genetivi here... I could have sworn." Anything to keep away from the subject, but he knows it's coming.

"What is this about, Dorian?" Zachariah asks.

"When I heard you fell into the chasm, into the fade... I thought you were done for." Dorian admits, it hurts to tell him and his pride is just close enough to not let him, but Zachariah needs to know and Dorian needs to stop worrying. "I don't know if I can forgive you for that moment. I thought 'This is it. this is where I finally loose him forever.' Are you... all right?"

Zachariah just shakes his head. He was healed physically, but Dorian can only imagine what the younger mage went through.

They carry on, and a sense of normality returns. Dorian couldn't be happier and neither could Zachariah. Though everything they witnessed thus far had been emotionally taxing, they've been able to keep each other afloat, that was good enough for Dorian, for now.

 


	11. In your arms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning-- NSFW content
> 
> ((First time writing porn so don't judge it too harshly.))

Even given Zachariah's apologies, Dorian still held a grudge. A grudge against the fact that the younger mage hadn't taken him along, that he made Dorian worry. He kept close to Dorian the couple days following Adamant, following him around like a love sick puppy, occasionally apologizing. It was almost adorable. Zachariah had basically moved his corner of the library to Dorian's, though he was much neater with his books. He usually ends up leaning on Dorian's legs as he reads, pinning Dorian to his choir on occasion, but the older mage didn't mind. It was days away from from the Winter Palace and that was when Zachariah stopped visiting, being fitted for his formal ware maybe? Though Dorian would be lying if he didn't say he didn't miss the younger mage. Then he hears that Zachariah left alone, by himself to Val Royeaux.

He ceases to notice Zachariah's return to Skyhold, though it's obvious that he is Dorian's first visit person he visits and he had come in a rush. Zachariah still wore his thin armor and was holding something behind his back. Dorian pretended he hadn't noticed anything. The younger mage looks a but too proud of himself as if he'd accomplished something quite big. ""I have something for you." He says with the light awkward smile Dorian loved. "Here it is." He says and takes Dorian's hand in his free one then placing something metallic in his hand.

And Dorian can't control his tone. "It's... the Pavus birthright! How did you--" Dorian stops himself and he can only think, "Why? I got myself into this, I sold it because I was desperate." The older mage felt as if he needed to explain himself for doing this. How did Zachariah even hear of it? "I wanted to get it back _on my own_."

"What I didn't want, is to be indebted to you or anyone. Now I am." He frowns.

Zachariah's looks almost like a kicked puppy, as if he might have done something wrong. "I didn't do this so you'd be indebted to me, Dorian. I did it for you."

Dorian isn't mad per se but he isn't quite sure how he feels now. He can only sigh and shake his head. "That's the problem."

"How is that a problem?" Zachariah quickly asks.

"Someone intelligent would cozy up to the Inquisitor if they could, it'd be foolish not to." Dorian starts to pace, looking down at the amulet for a moment then looking back to the mage. "He can open doors, get you what ever you want, shower you with gifts and power. That's what they'll say. I'm the 'magister' who's using you."

"I... didn't know you were so worried about that."

"I'm not worried about that, I'm worried about what they think of _us_." The first time Dorian ever even brought up the fact of 'us' since they got together, it was... something tightened in his heart. A sense of pride?

"I am apparently an incredible ass at accepting gifts." Dorian sighs and slowly takes Zachariah's hands in his own.  "I apologize, and thank you." He says almost formally. Though a better thank you was in order. He places his hands to the younger mage's hips and presses his lips to Zachariah's, he can feel the scar over the blond's lip, but it only adds to the charm to kissing him. Knowing that he was the only one who knew how this felt. Zachariah's hands wander to the collar of Dorian's shirt and gently clutch at the leather as he kisses back. Dorian hadn't noticed but Zachariah was actually shorter than him, only by an inch or to, but Zachariah had to be on the front of his feet to really be Dorian's height. Dorian pulls back before he really gets the chance to get into this, it was times like these that Zachariah tried Dorian's willpower. The young mad was handsome there was no denying that, but the fact the he was Dorian's and Dorian was His made something light up in his chest.

"I'm going to stop before I say something syrupy, but I won't forget this. And I _will_ repay you, count on it." 

* * *

And it's only a day away from the Winter Palace peace talks when Dorian gets an idea as to how to woo Zachariah, not that he hadn't already. Though he did worry this plan might not work, given the Inquisitor's duties. He knew for a fact that the inquisitor had not slept in days and hadn't even relaxed. He had occasionally come to speak with Dorian, but he didn't stay long. Dorian later finds Zachariah reading letters in his room after speaking with Dorian just a short time before. 'Something there that might interest you.' he said. Dorian probably could have come up with something better, but he's sure Zachariah just wanted to get away from all of the work. The blond turns his head as he hears Dorian's footsteps come up behind him.

  
"Sooo... It's all very nice, this flirting business. I am, however, not a nice man." Dorian can't help but smirk as Zachariah leans back against the desk before pushing off to meet Dorian in the middle of the room. "So, here is my proposal. We dispense with the chit-chat and move on something more... primal."

The words slip off of Dorian's tongue and Zachariah's stomach jumps and his face heats up, not that he'd appose. He tries to compensate for the girlish blush on his cheeks by placing his hands on his hips, trying to make himself seem... bigger?

"It'll set tongues wagging of course. Not that they aren't already wagging." Dorian continues and circles around the younger mage, pressing close to his back and placing his hands on Zachariah's hips. "I suppose it really depends... How bad does the inquisitor want to be?"

There's a small silence before the younger mage turns with a small smirk on his face, though ht e blush on his cheeks is no less faded. "Been working on that line, have you?" He comments and it seems it takes a bit of courage, but the younger mage replies with an equally cheesy answer. "I thought you'd never ask."

"I like playing hard to get." Dorian smirks back.

"And now?"

"I'm gotten."

Though he can't help but chuckle at himself at Dorian. But the Tervinter takes no time in hushing Zachariah, pressing his lips to the Inquisitor's, lip against lip, teeth nearly against teeth as they move backward, aiming for the bed. Zachariah lets out an unmanly sound as the corner of the bed catches his knees and makes him fall back onto the cushions. Dorian follows, hands on either side of the blond's head and knees between his thighs. Before Zachariah even says anything, Dorian captures his lips into a deeper kiss, deeper than they had really shared. The mage lets out another sound and wraps his arms around Dorian's neck, pulling him closer.

Dorian pulls back as the younger mage starts to try and pull at a few buckles. "I was honestly expecting you to be a bit more bashful about this." He hums.

"Though I wasn't expecting you to be this cheesy, but... I may or may not have been thinking about this for a while." Zachariah mutters and leans up to place a gentile peck to Dorian's lips.

"My dear Inquisitor, I had no idea you had the capability." Dorian grins and runs his hands up Zachariah's chest and pops a few buttons from the top of the younger man's jacket before kissing him again. Dorian knew that the mage would have trouble undressing him, given he'd have fidgety hands and with the number of belts on his clothes... it's just be trouble. Zachariah deepens the kiss and runs his tongue over Dorian's bottom lip. Dorian just continues to pull the buttons until he can see from Zachariah's chest to his stomach. He pulls back and slides his hands down the younger man's chest. Zachariah's breath hitches under Dorian's hands.

Dorian pushes the shirt apart and Dorian moves himself down. "Though your outfit barely leaves anything to the imagination, it seems there's more to imagine here." Zachariah lets out a sound and pushes himself up on his elbows. He was a bit more muscular than a mage, mostly from his training with The Iron Bull no doubt. Scars littered his torso, from his pectorals to below his hip bones, some thick and old, others small and fresh. A thin trail of hair lead down past the V of Zachariah's hips, almost tantalizing.

Dorian places a kiss to the younger man's collar bone and pushes him from his elbow's back onto the bed. He pulls only a few belts and he's able to shed his shirt at well. Zachariah scoffs, "I should have guessed those belts were for show." He muttered and pushed Dorian over and settled on his hips, his ass pressing back against Dorian's half-hard cock. His face turns an even deeper red, they hadn't even done much. Did Dorian really want him this much?

He sheds his shirt still hanging from his shoulders and throws it off some where, he testingly rolls his hips against Dorian's. The man below him groans and Zachariah gains a bit of courage. He continues grind back against Dorian. "Maker, Zachariah..." Dorian groans and holds Zachariah's hips. The younger mage leans down and kisses Dorian, it isn't long before he's on his back again and Dorian is rocking between his thighs, rubbing against his cock.

Zachariah bites back a sound as Dorian presses his tongue past the younger man's lips. Zachariah's a bit too hazy and needy to truly taste Dorian, but in the back of his head he recognizes it as something like Cinnamon, maybe. Zachariah is achingly hard and his hips move with Dorian's. The mage unlaces the inquisitor's pants and Zachariah can't help but let out a sound as Dorian's knuckles brush over his shaft. "W-wait." Zachariah stutters and moves off the bed to strip the rest of the way, kicking off his boots and sheds his pants. Dorian watches intently and once the younger mage's pants are around his ankles, Dorian yanks Zachariah back onto the bed.

Dorian slides his hands down Zachariah's torso, the younger mage breathes heavily under his touch as Dorian starts dragging his tongue down the man's torso and finding that his navel is pierced. He didn't think Zachariah the type to have any other piercing beside the one in his lip, which he rarely wore. He continues down and Zachariah's cock presses against his cheek. He hears a gasp and the mage is looking down at him, shocked, but Dorian can see the excitement behind those eyes. He doesn't hesitate taking Zachariah's cock into his mouth and he can feel the mage tense beneath his hands, the sounds Zachariah made were uncharacteristic and hot.

"Dorian...Maker... _Fuck_!" Zachariah moans. Dorian continues to bob his head and each time he looks up, Zachariah is looking right back at him, mouth open and eyes wanting. He pulls his mouth from the mage and runs his tongue over the slit, he hears a whine and a hitch of breath from above. The bright red that covered Zachariah's face was wonderful. Maker, if anyone saw the inquisitor like this... well it's not like Dorian would let that happen anyway. He had locked the door after all and given everything he was doing and Zachariah's lack of volume control, he was sure anyone outside the door knew what was happening.

He finally pulls himself from Zachariah and kneels over the man, his legs wrapping around Dorian's waist. "Maker...Dorian." The younger mage gasps and he rolls so that Dorian is beneath him. He kisses the Altus deeply and slips his tongue into his mouth, tasting himself on Dorian's tongue. The mage hisses out a few breaths and pushes Dorian over until the Altus is under him, much to Dorian's own surprise. "D-Dorian, I want..." Zachariah trails off and Dorian can just smirk, "Just--- _fuck_..." He hisses.

Dorian pushing himself up and wraps his arms around Zachariah's middle. "What do you need, love?"

"Damn it, Dorian." Zachariah growls, "Just--Just _fuck me_ already." And with that, Zachariah was back under Dorian as he was before. The younger mage having been alowed little control for the time being.

Dorian captures Zachariah's lips and reaches into his pocket. He doubted the inquisitor was prepared for something like this, and he would have been surprised to know that Zachariah kind of was though the oil in Dorian's pocket was closer. He pulls away and the younger man lets out a small sound of loss. "Lay down, on your stomach." Dorian commands and Zachariah doesn't hesitate to follow orders and Dorian gets a full view of the Inquisitor's lovely ass. The pants he wore in Skyhold and the field left nothing to the imagination, so it's not quite like Dorian hadn't see it before. As Bull commented once, 'Hate to see him leave, but love to watch him go'.

Dorian just dumps the oil onto Zachariah's ass and he can see the muscles in the mage's lower back tense and he shivers. "Cold..." The younger man whines. Dorian leans close to Zachariah's ear, "It'll warm up, I promise." He smooths a hand down Trevelyan's ass then presses a finger into the cleft, making the younger mage squirm, pressing against the finger circling his hole. "D-Dorian, _please..._ " Zachariah gasps as his hips roll.

Dorian presses a kiss to the back of Trevelyan's neck and presses a finger inside of him, teasing him with just one finger, but it's enough to make the mage squirm and clutch the sheets. Zachariah curses indignantly, "More! Please..." He gasps and Dorian can't help but oblige, adding finger after finger until Zachariah is practically fucking himself on them. He decides to test something, circling a place that's been making Zachariah jump and moan, needing more. Suddenly Zachariah moans and nearly comes as a vibration over whelms his insides. He can't see straight until it stops and he can feel the loss.

Dorian grins, so electricity certainly can bring the inquisitor to his knees if used the right way. He pulls his fingers from Zachariah and the mage below him actually whines at the loss. Dorian strips himself the rest of the way and settles back down behind Zachariah. "Turn over, love."

Zachariah turns over and wraps his arms around Dorian and his legs around the Altus's hips. Dorian does want to tease the circle mage more and make the most of this, but any more and he's sure Zachariah will take what he wants. Zachariah is flushed red from his cheeks, to his neck, to his shoulders. His cock is leaking pre-come, making Dorian lick his lips. He doesn't hesitate to kiss Zachariah and move to press his cock to the mage's hole. Zachariah tries to push his ass back onto him, but his movement is limited. Dorian pushes himself into the younger mage with a low moan. Zachariah groans in want of more, and only grows louder as Dorian fills him.

"Mmmh, You feel so good around me." Dorian moans and Zachariah lets out a sound between a moan and a shutter.

"Maker, Dorian move!"

Dorian doesn't hesitate to thrust into the younger man. Zachariah moans Dorian's name over and over with each thrust. Dorian isn't rough but this had been something he'd been thinking of for a while, he reaches around Zachariah and grips his ass and he thrusts deep into him. He's sure the whole bed is quaking with each thrust. The altus lifts Zachariah's hips and aims directly at his prostate, which works easily and Zachariah is nearly screaming. Never had he heard the younger man get this loud and was all for Dorian to cherish, him and the rest of Skyhold if he hadn't closed the balcony doors. Despite the castles thick stone walls, the doors were as thin as paper, but the inquisitor practically slept in a tower so it didn't matter.

The younger mage's back arches and his grip on Dorian falls to the sheets and grips so hard his knuckles go white. "Dorian... Pleas--please! I'm going to--" Zachariah gasps and comes so hard he sees white after his attempt at a warning. His ass squeezes around Dorian and his thrust slow to an uneven pace before he comes inside the younger man. Zachariah gasps a few times then lets himself drop to the bed, his arms barely able to hang onto the sheets, let alone even help Dorian clean this mess.

Dorian collapses next to Zachariah, who is all but conscious. Dorian runs a hand through the younger man's mussed blond hair then down his chest, the muscles tensing only lightly under his fingers, almost as if to push up to his touch. He then got up to retrieve something to clean them both off. Once he comes back he had already wiped himself down and worked to clean Zachariah up though he was belligerent to move. He lets the circle mage sleep for a while as he explored the man's quarters, which gave Dorian a lot of time to think, too much time in fact. It was around sun set when Zachariah wakes up and Dorian is comfortably naked and he looks back to see the mage staring at his ass.

"I like your quarters." Dorian slyly comments.

"Do you now?" Zachariah replies, his voice rough from sleep and other things.

"Don't misunderstand, I'm not about to suggest that we venture into mutual domesticity. I just like your appointments."

The mage only snorts quietly.

"Not that I can't suggest a few changes. You're taste is a little... austere." Dorian smirks and the circle mage raises a brow.

"You seem a little distracted." Zachariah says, a slightly worried look washing over his face.

"Sex will do that. It's distracting." Dorian replies.

"I heard a rumor." He hums as his face dusts a light cute pink.

Dorian sighs. "Very well, You've rooted me out. There is something I want."

Zachariah's face twists into even more worry, if he hadn't done something right or if Dorian didn't like him any more. He'd give the world to Dorian if it meant keeping him close by.

"I'm curious where this goes... you and I." Dorian looks at Zachariah who is now moving to sit beside Dorian instead of lay behind him. "We've had fun, perfectly reasonable to leave it here, get on with killing atchedemons and such."

"Tell me what you want." Ah yes. The answer Dorian was dreading.

"All on me then?" Dorian asks.

"Should it be all on me?" Replies the younger mage.

Dorian just sighs, all he needed to do was tell the truth. "I like you. More than I should, more than might be wise. We end it here, I walk way. I won't be happy, but I'd rather now than later. Later... might be dangerous."

The younger mage slides close to Dorian. "Why dangerous?" It's clear that the inquisitor has a lack of experience in the relationship department, but that was part of the naivete that Dorian liked so much.

Dorian looks away from Zachariah. "Walking away might be harder then." He replies in a hushed tone, but he can hear the mage sigh, almost out of relief, then he feels to strong arms wrap around him as if to comfort him. It doesn't last long, but some how, Dorian's nerves did calm. Zachariah keeps once of Dorian's hands in his own.

"I want more than just fun, Dorian." He says with a small smile and Dorian is silent. "Speachless, I see."

"I was... expecting something different." Dorian replies and looks to the mage, almost bewildered and yet his chest tightens in happiness. And Zachariah looks as if he couldn't even say something different, even if he had tried. "Where I come from, anything between two men is about pleasure.... it's accepted, but taken no further. You learn not to hope for more." Dorian sighs, "You'd be foolish to." And once, Dorian was that foolish, though a _very_ long time ago it seemed.

"So let's be foolish." Zachariah smiled and squeezed Dorian's hand then bringing it to his lips to kiss his knuckle.

"Hard habit to break." Dorian says on impulse.

"I'm good at breaking things." The younger mage says in an uncharacteristically sultry voice.

"Hopefully not everything." Dorian says in an equally suggestive tone. "Care to inquisit me again? I'll be more specific in my directions this time." He grins and lets Zachariah's hand slip from his own, only to place both hands on that scared chest he loved so much to push the younger mage down on the bed. Zachariah laughs as Dorian kisses him lightly, on his neck, his collar bone, his cheek, then his lips. "Show off." The mage says between kisses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not over yet, so stay tuned for the next installment of 'Probably witten by Varric at some point'.


	12. Suspected Paradise

Halamshiral was.... beautiful to say the least. Though everything seemed much too tense, from talks of spies on the battlefront to talks of affairs, much like any Tervinter Ball. Even with the distance between Orlais and Tervinter, people were just people. The same with rich assholes, says Sara. Zachariah decided not to bring her along, it would be for the best, though the circle mage had to promise to bring back food. Looking back at the blond, the mage seemed far out of his comfort zone. They were all dressed in the finest the Inquisition could get it's hands on. Dressed from head to toe in Black and red, Zachariah was neatened up by Vivienne, whom had trimmed his hair and if it were not for the younger mage's fighting back, she might have actually gotten him to shave. His blue lower lip piercing was switched for a gold and back one, the colors swirled into the metal. As were the ones in his ears. Gold quite suited him, really. The man's shoulders had squared and a near perfect masked expression had covered the discomfort Dorian knew he was feeling. Soon Dorian, The Iron Bull, and Cassandra are rushed into the Winter Palace, leaving Zachariah outside to speak with Gaspard. Dorian could feel the discomfort from a mile way.

They are announced and Zachariah walks slowly to bow to the empress. Dorian can hear chatter from the crowed, some women and men ogling the Inquisitor while others seemed surprised at Zachariah's skill in The Game. Dorian would have to ask about this later. Zachariah's voice echoes through the ball room as he speaks and he sounds much calmer than Dorian knows he is and he can see even Bull is forcing himself to put on a front, much like Zachariah. There is a woman behind the Empress, seemingly just as important and very interested in his inquisitor. Dorian shakes the thought from his head, denying any twinge of jealousy. He was not a maiden suddenly in a tryst, seeing her lover with another woman, there was no way he was like this. It is quite some time before the younger mage is able to come see him.

"Having fun?" The younger mage asks.

Dorian lets out a small chuckle. "This is all so Familiar." He admits, "I half expect my mother to materialize from the crowd and criticize my manners."

This brings a small smirk and a raise of a brow to Zachariah's face."What if you're mother were actually here?" he asks.

"Short one mage after he's dragged out by his earlobe." Dorian hums.

He hears a small laugh, quieted by a hand, "I'm having difficulty picturing that." says the younger mage.

"Picture me a young boy of five years, then. She certainly always has." Dorian grins, though he is far from lying.

"I am and it's adorable." Zachariah chuckles and Dorian feigns offence.

They chat for a while, with each new subject, the Inquisitor seemed more than a little more relaxed. His shoulders still sharp but his face softer than the furrowed brow and forced smile that he had before. "I've been hearing people gawk at you since we got here. 'Oh my, is that the Lord Trevelyan? My, those eyes.'" Dorian mimics a voice of a noble, shrill and annoying. "They ask how you got so good at the game, you've even managed to impress some of the council I hear."

Zachariah lets a small huff out of his nose. "It's... It is years of experience. The circle is much like the Game. Reveal no weakness and you are in charge. I was nearly an enchanter by the time we rebelled, though one could say it was my fault..." Zachariah quiets and then his mask his resumed, maybe this wasn't the best subject, though Dorian would pry later, when others were not seeking to pry into their lives as well.

"Don't wear yourself out dancing. I expect a dance before this is over." The younger mage grins, though there is a faint blush on his cheeks, almost as if it was his first time asking a partner to dance. It was by all means adorable.

Dorian feigns shock. "Dancing with the evil magister, in full view of every noble in Orlais? How _shocking_."

"They'll live." Zachariah comments.

Dorian's smirk only grows. "You say that now. If you can find be then silk scarves, I've got a dance that will _really_ shock them." With that, Zachariah's face actually goes red at the thought. "Ah! You're actually thinking about trying it." Dorian laughs.

"No! No I was not! I was only.... thinking about what you might do... n-not the actual... thing." Zachariah holds his face in his hands for a moment then sighs, the blush is still there but faint on his cheeks but there is a small smile.

"Thank you for coming." He says with a small sigh.

"And expose myself to all this exquisite finery and exotic wines? Such hardship." Dorian only smiles.

"Not everyone's likely to be friendly, that's all I meant..." Zachariah says.

"It's true. You'd think I smelled of cabbages, the way they wrinkle their noses. It's of no concern, but thank you." Dorian receives a small relieved smile. Ah, it always seemed that the weight of the world rested on Zachariah's shoulders and he still made time to worry for every one, including Dorian. Dorian would have to find a way to repay him and lift that burden, even if only for a small bit of time.

* * *

And the 'group fun' starts with a murder of a poor elven servant, practically butchered given the size of the knife. One which Zachariah quickly identified as Gaspard's dagger, his seal upon the hilt and the fine craftsmanship of it made it seem impractical to use though. Swirls along the hilt, guided by jewels of drakestone and the like. The metal was weakened obviously buy swirls over it, thinner pieces, though there is no doubt it was the weapon used to kill the servant. The younger mage and his party do not dwell until they are attacked by Venatori. Something Dorian should have seen coming. Odd jesters with blades came hard and fast and Zachariah did not flinch, burning them to ashes or freezing them where they stand, never to move again. This was best given they had no time and no way to spare these assassins. But this was only the start, it was bound to get worse from here on. It all seems like a wild chase until they find the guest quarters where the bulk of the Venatori and assassin's were. The circle mage makes quick work of it, though it is bloody. One of the agile ones manages to slip past Bull and himself and tries to flee. He makes it down the corridor before there is a blade in his head, embeaded deep and making his eyes roll back in his head. Something Dorian wished he had not observed.

An elven woman, a servant as tall as she was lankey steps out into the open. She is dressed as an Orleasian servant would be except for the extravagant mask that graced her features. There is a play of a smirk on her lips, but there is a hint of surprise as well.

"Fancy meeting you here." She says, an Orleasian accent thick on her tongue. "We have not been properly introduced, have we? I am Ambassador Briala." She says and there is a hint of distaste in her tone.

"Quite the title." Zachariah only replies, seemingly having the same distaste for Briala as she did him.

"You're reputation for getting results is well deserved. You cleaned this place out. It will take a month to get all the Tervinter blood out of the marble."

"Try am Embarium scrub, usually does the trick." Zachariah sneers.

"I came down to save or avenge my missing people, but you have beaten me to it." They walk to the balcony and Briala turns, "So... the council of Heralds' emissary in the courtyard... that's not your work, is it?"

Zachariah goes rigid. "I suspect that Gaspard killed him. The knife had the Chalons crest on the hilt." But that didn't make it Gaspard. That knife was too nice, too elegant. There was no tactical advantage and it is used to show off, not to kill.

But Briala jumps on the suggestion. "I knew it." She says, "I knew he was smuggling his chevaliers, but killing a council emissary? Bringing Tervinter assassins into the palace?" She shakes her head with a somewhat angry frown. "Those are desperate acts. Gaspard must be planning to strike tonight."

Zachariah presses his lips into a thin line, then crosses his arms over his chest. The mage wasn't one to trust people, but with the game at hand and knowing full well how it worked... "Are you sure he's behind this? He was too... easygoing for a man plotting treason." Says the mage.

"Don't let his charm blind you. He's Orlesian. That smile is his mask." Briala replies sharply. "I misjudged you, Inquisitor. You might just be an ally worth having. What could you do with an army of elven spies at you disposal? You should think about it." A smirk plays on his lips before it is gone once again.

Zachariah only lets out a sigh through his nose. "You know how to make a sales pitch, Ambassador. I'll give you that." The mage says.

"I do, don't I?" She smirks once again. "I know which way the wind is blowing. I'd bet coin that you'll be part of the peace talks before the night is over." Briala raises a brow, "And if you happen to lean a little bit our way? It... could prove advantageous to us both. Just a thought." With that, she walks away, scaling down the walls.

"There's so much conniving and backstabbing here. It makes me homesick." Dorian comments no nonchalantly before they are quickly making their way back to the center of the palace, to change and disarm.

* * *

 

Zachariah, being the mage in hiding that he is, left nothing unturned when he reached Gaspard's trophy room. The room it's self made him sick, seeing mounted heads of rare game stuffed and hung on the wall. This was not the way hunting was meant to be done. He did his best to ignore most of it and focus on finding dirt on Gaspard himself, to further his thought that is was indeed the duke of Chalons that murdered the emissary.

Just as he is able to unlock a secret office near the main desk behind the trophy room a bell rings loudly across the palace. Zachariah winces at the sound, now the court expected him to dance in the literal sense. It had taken so many tries to even get through the dance once, he dreaded stepping on someone's toes, dreaded what his image might do to the Inquisition. He leaves the room after finding the most interesting locket. He'd examine it more later.

He walks to the ballroom and is greeted by Florianne, cousin to the Duke and the empress. She is an older woman, but no less pretty, Zachariah didn't like her.

"Inquisitor Trevelyan." She says with a pretty smile, "We met briefly. I am Grand Duchess Florianne de Chalons. Welcome to my party." 

Zachariah's mask is in full play, a small gentlemanly smile and the straightening of his back make him seem innocent, more dignified. "Is there something I can do for your, Your Grace?" He asks elegantly.

A smile graces the older woman's features, "Indeed you can. I believe tonight you and I are both concerned by the actions of... a certain person." She says. Zachariah feels himself go cold. So she is to accuse Gaspard as well. My, these people were quick to point fingers. She holds out her hand to me taken and she leads him to the stairs that descended to the dancing floor. "Come. Dance with me. Spies will not hear us on the dace floor."

Zachariah would have rather not, his throat clenched and he was more than a little nervous. "Very well. Shall we dance, Your Grace?"

"I'd be delighted."

The dance starts slow, at an agonizing pace. She holds his hand lightly as they waltz, not what Zachariah was used to. "I've never thought a mage from Ferelden would know much of Orlais. Just how much to you know about our civil war?" She asks.

"What do you think I ought to know?" Zachariah asks, his voice sharp and quiet. They step with each other and it takes everything for Zachariah not to watch his own feet.

"My brother and my dear Cousin have been at each other's throats for too long." She replies, looking forward, elegant and experienced. "It took great effort to arrange tonight's negotiations. Yet one party would use this occasion for blackest treason. The security of the empire is at stake. Neither one of us wishes to see it fall." They bow to each other, Zachariah can do nothing but listen and mimic, he had done this with Dorian but this... there were so many eyes on him now.

"Do we both want that, Lady Florianne?" Trevelyan asks, basically answering a question with a question. This is the way he survived the circle, this was the way he was going to survive the game.

"I hope we are of one mind on this." The duchess replies. They end up close together, Zachariah holding her hip and her hand as they circle the floor.

"In these times... it is hard to tell friend from foe. Is it not, Your Grace?" The young mage asks, hoping to instill that he did not trust Florianne... or any one for that matter.

"I know you arrived here as a guest of my brother, Gaspard. And have been everywhere in the palace." He hums. Zachariah does not notice that all eyes are on them now, no one is left on the dance floor but them. "You are a curiosity to many, Inquisitor... and a matter of concern for some."

"Am I the curiosity or the concern to you, Your Grace?" The mage asks, carefully studying the woman in front of him. Years of the game had built up the most prestigious mask, but no one can mask the eyes, and Zachariah knew eyes.

"A little of both, actually." She replies and her tone makes Zachariah's stomach flip. "This evening is of great importance, Inquisitor. I wonder what role you will play in it." She presses her thin lips into a line then speaks. "Do you even yet know who is friend and who is foe? Who in the court can be trusted?"

Zachariah is tempted to say that he did in fact trust no one but that would break his stride. "An excellent question," The young mage hums. "I might ask the same of you, Your Grace." He says as they circle each other. There is a long moment of silence and Zachariah has time to hear his heart in his ears, hear the chatter of voices in the crowd, feel the eyes on him.

"In the Winter Palace, everyone is alone." Says the duchess. They carry on and the duchess continues to speak more of her brother, Zachariah can hear the pointing of the finger to him, but he still was yet to be convinced that the old man was the culprit of such treason. Before he knows it the duchess has made a wrong move... or maybe he had. But she trips over one of his feet and she is dipped low to the floor, held up by Zachariah's arms alone. Her hand grips his tight, but she does not seem angry. "You have little time." She says quietly as the crowd begins to cheer. Brava's and regal clapping coming from the nobles. They walk in unison off the floor. "The attack will come soon. You must stop Gaspard before he strikes. In the Royal Wing Garden, you will find the captain of my brother's mercenaries. He knows all of Gaspard's secrets." She hums then smirks, "I am sure you can persuade him to be forthcoming."

"We'll see what the night has in store, won't we?" The mage hums in reply then leaves the duchess to herself. Ah... this will be a long arduous night.

Josephine walks to his side with a bright smile, it eases Zachariah from the persona he had taken on in the Dance. "You'll be the talk of the court for months. We should take you dancing more often." She grins.

"Sweet maker no." The Inquisitor chuckles and Josephine takes his arm so that they walk together. Liliana rushes to his other side. "Were you dancing with Duchess Florianna?" She asks quickly. Cullen follows, equally surprised.

"More importantly, what happened in the servants' quarters? I heard there was fighting?" Cullen asks, a hint of worry for his friend in his voice.

"I hope you have good news. It appears the peace talks are crumbling." Josephine says, also worried.

"The Grand Duchess suspects her brother, as does Briala. The Duchess believes him in league with Tervinter." Zachariah replies.

"And you?" Cullen asks. The young mage only shakes his head.

"She offered up her own brother?" Liliana asks, "She's more cutthroat than I realized."

"Indeed." Is all Zachariah can reply with.

"Then the attack on the Empress  _will_ happen tonight." Sighed Cullen, who sounded more weary than anyone else.

"Warning Celene is pointless. She need these talks to succeed, and to flee would admit defeat." Josephine frowns.

"Then perhaps we should let her die." Liliana says bluntly and Zachariah can't help but feel angry at her for saying such a thing. He grits his teeth.

"You have an idea, Liliana?" The young Trevelyan asks.

"What Corypheus wants is chaos. Even with Celene alive, that could still happen." She replies. "To foil his plan, the empire must remain strong. This evening, someone must emerge victorious."

Cullen sighs behind her. "And it doesn't need to be Celene. She's right."

Josephine furrows her brow, "Do you realize what you're suggesting, Liliana?"

Liliana just shakes her head. "Sometimes the best path is not the easiest one."

"I... I can't decide this. Not yet." Zachariah interjects. There is something here that doesn't add up. If everything really did point to Gaspard, there would be a gamble on weather or not it really was him. If it was, then they's be putting a Venatori on the throne. The Wing would be a trap or a lead, either way... there was only one way to find out. Zachariah is left to himself and his decisions. Being Inquisitor was stressful, now more than ever. He sighs to himself, straightens his back, and makes himself seem as if now... he wasn't feeling the weight of the world.

 


	13. In this palace lies hell

The group is brought together once again and it seemed that Zachariah was more ready to get this over with than originally thought. He rushed up the stairs, making his way through the rooms, picking up books that might have been important. There is a horrific scream and Zachariah runs, bursting through the door to see one of the harlequin assassin's standing over a poor elven woman. There is really no time to think before Zachariah kicks the woman out the window, there is a scream and then a sick thud that the young mage doesn't bother to find out if she really hit the ground. He kneels to the young elf girl who is more than grateful. "Thank you!" She says quickly.

"Are you alright?" The young mage asks.

The young woman is still catching her breath but she is slowly calming. "I'm... I don't think I'm hurt." She replies. "No one's supposed to be here... Briala said... I shouldn't have trusted her." The woman's tone grows angry. Ah, so another finger is pointed.

"Briala told you to come to this wing of the palace?" Asks the mage.

"Not personally. The 'Ambassador' can't be seen talking to the servants. We get coded messages at certain locations. But the order came from her." Replies the elf. "She's been watching the grand duke all night. No surprise she wanted someone to search his sister's room."

"If there is a reason you distrust Briala, I want to hear it." Zachariah helps the woman to her feet. She doesn't seem injured, all the better.

"I knew her. Before. When she was Celene's pet." The woman frowns. "Now she wants to play revolution. But I remember, she was sleeping with the empress who purged our alienage."

"Would you be willing to testify to that, if I asked?"

"Absolutely. If... if the inquisition will protect me, I'll tell you everything I know about our 'Ambassador.'" The elf replies with a bow of her head.

"Most Orleasians would say that's Celene's scandal, not Briala's." Dorian comments. Zachariah nods in agreement.

"Go to the ballroom. Find commander Cullen. He'll keep you safe." Says the Inquisitor. The elf woman sighs a thank you and rushes out of the wing to find the commander. This was best. Blackmail on both sides. Then as they walk, they hear yet another person. This time a man yelling at someone to let him go.

Zachariah runs out hoping he is not too late, but he ends up being surrounded by Venatori archers, each arrow aimed at his head. Zachariah doesn't stop a primal growl from escaping him. He then looks up the moment he hears a familiar voice. A smiling Florianne, menacing in her stance over the rail of a balcony.

"Inquisitor! What a pleasure! I wasn't certain you'd attend." She chirps, Zachariah's hand buzzes he hides it behind him, though the tingling and buzzing is getting to him, a closed rift sits in front of him, glowing menacingly. "You're such a challenge to read. I had no idea id you'd taken my bait."

"I fear I'm a but busy at the moment, if you were looking for a dance partner." Zachariah sneers, his mask falls away. He's angry. She was the piece that didn't fit and it all made sense now.

She grins and bows her head. "Yes, I see that. Such a pity you did not save one final Dance for me. It was kind of you to walk into my trap so willingly. I was so tired of your meddling." She sighs. "Corypheus insisted that the empress die tonight, and I would hate to disappoint him."

Zachariah desires to punch that smug look of her face, but he can only think humainly. "You don't have to go through with this, Florianne. There is still time to turn back." He says.

"Awww, my dead Inquisitor." She chirps, "You are so naive. In their darkest dreams, no one imagines I would assassinate Celene myself." She grins. Then it drops. "Kill him and bring me his marked hand." Says the Duchess before leaving the Inquisitor and his Companions to their fate. Then everything moves quickly. Zachariah can hear the thunk of a bow string and the sound of arrows hitting stone and dirt. Before he knows it, he has opened the rift and drawn his staff. Many of the archers are burned alive within the second cast and the demons are falling easily under Zachariah's magic and The Bull's blade. Though, leave it to them to become as bloody as possible.

They are finally able to breathe and release the man in chains from the post. "Andraste's tits! What was all that?" He asks vulgarly. "Where those demons? There aren't any more blasted demons coming, right?" Zachariah rolls his eyes. Next thing you know, he'll be asking if the young mage was himself a demon.

"Aren't you supposed to be a soldier? Act like one." Zachariah frowns.

"The pay's not good enough to keep me calm." The man grunts. "I knew Gaspard was a bastard, but I didn't think he'd feed me to fucking horrors over a damned bill."

"Duke Gaspard lured you out here?" Zachariah asks.

"Well, His sister, but it had to come from him, didn't it? All that Garbage she was spewing doesn't mean anything. Gaspard had to be the master mind." There is a long angry sigh before the man is able to collect his calm. "The duke wanted to move on the palace tonight. But he didn't have enough fancy chevaliers. So he hired me and my men." The man grumbles off about hating nobles and Orlais. Zachariah can relate. He manages to get the man on the side of the Inquisition before he leaves the palace. They barely have any time to get to the main hall and stop Florianne. Zachariah only hopes he hadn't messed this all up.

* * *

 

He rushes there to witness the Duchess and her brother walk across the way to the side of the Empress. The Duchess' head is held high until she sees the Inquisitor, standing angry, bruised, and covered in blood that was not his. She tries to keep a calm exterior. Cullen rushes to the Inquisitor. "Thank the maker you're back! The empress will begin her speech soon. What should we do?" He asks. Zachariah knows that the court has taken a liking to him, informed by the glancing looks he had received only earlier on the ballroom floor.

"Wait here, Cullen. I'm going to have a word with the Grand Duchess." Zachariah says and Cullen quickly grabs the man.

"What? There's no time! The empress will begin her speech any moment!" Cullen snaps. But Zachariah would have none of it. He walks to the ballroom floor, still in his bloodied clothes, giving off an aura of absolute anger as he walks to the steps, just a floor below the duchess Florianne.

"We owe the court one last show, Your Grace." Says the mage, taking each step slowly.

"Inquisitor." The duchess can only warn. There are no other words to be said.

"The eyes of every noble in the empire are upon us, Your Grace." A smile, fake and angry tugs at his lips. "Remember to smile." He walks up the stair with ease. Each step he takes, she takes three more. "This is your party. You wouldn't want them to think you had lost control."

"Who would not be delighted to speak with you, Inquisitor?" Asks the duchess, clearly sweating in nervousness.

"I seem to recall you saying, "All I need was to keep you out of the ballroom long enough to strike." The inquisitor does his best not to mimic her sarcastically, but to sound professional. He takes a few more steps forward and she takes them back, nearly back to wall now. Zachariah folds his arms behind his back and begins to pace. "When your archers failed to kill me in the garden, I feared you wouldn't save me this last dance." Then his smirk was sincere, triumphant. "Ah, how easy it is to lose your good graces. You even framed your brother for the murder of a council emissary. It was an ambitious plan, Celene, Gaspard, the entire Council of Heralds... all your enemies under one roof."

Florianne stumbles with her words. "This is very entertaining, but you do not imagine anyone believes your wild stories?" She stutters every other word. There is no hiding her guilt.

"That will be a matter for a judge to decide, cousin." Says an elegant voice behind her. The empress. Zachariah can see the betrayal past her mask.

The Duchess quickly turns to her brother, nearly begging for him to believe her, but he rejects her all together and walks away. Guards begin to corner to woman, closing in on her, hands on the hilts of their swords. "You lost this fight ages ago, your grace. You're just the last to find out." Says the Inquisitor. The woman falls from her feet and sits in shock, sobbing. She is picked up by her arms and practically carried out. The Inquisitor turns to the empress, a vision in blue. "Your Imperial Majesty. I think we should speak in private. Elsewhere." He recommends and the empress nods, turning her back to him and to the lone balcony behind her where they are to speak.

* * *

 

There he met Briala, Gaspard, and Celene arguing among themselves. "You're sister attempted regicide in front of the entire court, Gaspard." Says the elf in an accusing tone.

"You are the spymaster. If anyone knew the atrocity was coming, it was you." He ejects in an equally accusing manner.

"You don't deny your involvement." Says the elf, turning his words.

"I do deny it!" Gasprd raises his voice, "I knew nothing of Florianne's plans! But you.... you knew it all and did nothing!"

The elf scoffs, "I don't now which is better. That you think I am all-seeing or that you are trying to play innocent and failing."

"Enough! We will not bicker while Tervinter plots against our nation! For the safety of our empire, I will have answers." The empress interjects, quieting the two bickering.

Zachariah frowns and interjects. "Everyone of you is implicated. You all conspired to allow this to happen." The two nobles and the elf are taken aback by the blame.

"That is a bold claim, Inquisitor. Are you prepared to defend it?" Asks the Empress.

"You allowed the grand Duke to sneak soldiers in, hoping he'd make a politically foolish move." Zachariah grunts. The Duke looks more than a little shocked, thinking he was clever in doing so, only to be set up the whole time. "And you, Gaspard, You took the bait. I met your mercenary captain, Your Grace. He says you were ready to attack tonight."

"Clever move, if you were trying to get hanged for treason." Says the elf woman, thinking herself above them now.

"And Briala was playing both of you. She murdered your ambassadors and sent you each forged letters."

The elf turns with a sneer. "Even if I did, you can't touch me."

Zachariah was really getting tired of this noble crap. He frowns, "No one will defend you once it's revealed that you and Celene were lovers when she burned Halamshiral's Alienage."

"You have made your point. What do you want?" Asks the empress, her face pale, even under the makeup she wore.

"You are three of the best minds in the empire. You could do so much for Orlais and your people if you stopped fighting." The mage concludes.

"It is remarkably... optimistic to believe hat the three of us could ever forget our differences." The empress paces a few steps, though she has no real say in the matter. They could say nothing else, they could only work together under the hopes that their secrets never be revealed. It was all in Zachariah's hands.

* * *

 

For Zachariah, the Ball ends the moment he is alone and able to rest his head on his arms. He was still standing at the large balcony, over looking the rest of the palace. What the younger mage wouldn't give to be looking at a forest right now, or maybe the sea. He hears the clicks of heals on the marble behind him. He turns, expecting a noble, but it is another mage. Morrigan whom he had met earlier. She was a strange sort and a dark woman of many secrets, that much he could tell. She stands at his side. They speak for a time, and though it is not Zachariah's decision, Morrigan is to join the inquisition. 'To help him on his quest.' she says. Zachariah can only roll his eyes and welcome her. This woman speaks as if he is below her and he's hated that since the first word slipped past her lips. She leaves him, but even after she is gone, he can still hear the clicking of her footsteps... Ah, no. This are heavier.

He looks behind him once again and can;t help but smile. Dorian comes and leans against the rail at his side with a raised eye brow and a cocky smile. Zachariah can feel himself relax. He gently leans so that his shoulder is touching Dorian's. It's a childish gesture, but it just feels nice to be so close.

"There was an ancient dowager looking for you. Said she had twelve daughters! I told her you had left already." Dorian smirks, "You can thank me later. Or now. But you look lost in thought. Something on your mind?"

Zachariah shakes his head. "Just--Just tired." He replies.

Dorian lets out a small sigh and there is a small silence between them, none the less awkward. Then Dorian's smirk only grows. "What you need is a distraction. I have just the thing: Let's dance." He says and takes a step back, bowing as if her were asking some noble woman to dance. It makes Zachariah smile. He takes Dorian's hand.

"I believe the last time be danced, I stepped on your feet so much you ended up with bruises." Zachariah says. "But I was hoping you'd ask."

Dorian wraps an arm around the younger man's waist and pulls him close so that they are chest to chest. "Thank goodness one of us has a little initiative." the man chuckles and they begin. Slowly, only really walking in circles with each other. Zachariah ends up with his forehead rested on Dorian's shoulder as they move. This was the close he had needed since the moment they had arrive in this hellish palace. Dorian just holds him close in the silence, music really falling on deaf ears, they only moved with each other. Zachariah hadn't noticed the music stop until it was long over. They stop and the young mage wraps his arms around Dorian's neck looking straight at him.

He can feel the words on his tongue, now seemed perfect but.... they wouldn't come out. He sighs to himself and leans close, pressing his lips to Dorian's. It's a long chaste kiss between the two, but it says just enough. Dorian smiles softly. "I told you it'd get your mind off of things, Amatus."

Zachariah sighs and smiles as well, "Well, now it seems you know me best." The younger mage presses another kiss to Dorian's lips before a loud crash is heard. Dorian and Zachariah both wince. "10 sovereigns say Bull is drunk."

"20 say that Cassandra is too." Dorian smirks.

It was a nice end to the night, though dragging home a qunari and an angry seeker was not the fun part.


	14. Pit of Vipers

Zachariah hates his family, he's never told Dorian this, but it's pretty obvious from the letters he receives. He tries not to show Dorian the letters and he usually burns them while he's sleeping, there are times when the older mage gets a glimpse of the letters, asking for him to talk to them, send them letters, but Zachariah quickly burns them and they go up in flames like flash paper. Now, Zachariah doesn't have enough time for Dorian, he comes to speak with him but it's only a few minutes before he is called back into action. It's been nearly a week since anything between them has happened and Dorian has seen the stress weighing down on the younger man. Dorian gathers the nicest bottle of wine he can find in Skyhold and a couple glasses. He waits until the end of the day when he knows Zachariah is in his room. The moment he comes up the steps he hears a crash and he nearly drops the glasses and the bottle. He rushes up the stairs, drop them all on the couch and find Zachariah at the foot of his bed, just sitting there in the floor. His desk is a mess, as is the rest of his room. Dorian slowly approaches him.

"Zachariah?" He asks quietly and he slowly sits down next to him. "What happened?"

Zachariah frowns and shakes his head. "Nothing... nothing." He says quietly but there are papers crumpled in his hand.

"You are the absolute worst liar." Dorian hums and presses close to the younger man. He wraps an arm around him and smooths his hand down his side to his hip, this calms Zachariah. He leans to Dorian and he seems less tense now. "Now tell me why you wrecked your room."

"It's only... it's my family. It's really nothing." The younger mage replies.

"It's never just nothing. Please."

"Apparently my father has died and they... they want me to come to Ostwick. Back to the circle to attend the funeral... maker, they'd put me back in there the first chance they got." Zachariah's voice cracks and he tenses again.

"Over my dead body." Dorian mutters and kisses Zachariah's cheek. "You don't have to go."

"Yes I do. It's my father, the moment word spreads of an old Templar dying in Ferelden well, at least have the country goes to the funeral. The other half are mages that are happy they're dead."

"Then... I'll go with you." Dorian suggests and Zachariah quickly pulls away, getting up.

"No. No you can't come."

"This better not be about reputation."

"No, it's about that! It's the fact that... they won't approve of you and it shouldn't bother me, but it does." Zachariah starts pacing the room but Dorian stops him, stands in front of him and wraps his arms around the man. Zachariah does the same and keeps a hold on him. "I'm just worried what they'll say or what they'll do. I'd honestly rather be electrocuted." he mutters.

"I've already done that, Amatus. You love that too much." Dorian giggles. He can feel Zachariah warm up, his cheeks heat to his hears.

"You're too good to me." Zachariah mutters and kisses Dorian's temple. "How can you not worry about people like my family?"

"Because mine is the same and if I were not a mage I would be a Pavus in name only." Dorian replies. "I can brave a few snakes for you, with you." Dorian pulls back and places a kiss to Zachariah's lips, light but with feeling, Zachariah kisses him back with equal passion then he pulls away.

"I don't deserve you." Zachariah mutters against Dorian's lips.

"You deserve more than just me, so hush." Dorian smiles softly and leads Zachariah to the bed. They sat for a while before Dorian picked up the wine and glasses.

"I know for a fact that this position is working you too hard." Dorian mutters and pours two glasses, but Dorian is sure Zachariah is going to need at least half a bottle to drown this out. He downs the glass without savoring it. It would make Dorian cringe if he wasn't used to it by now. "Lay down. I want to try something." He fills the glass again and Zachariah does as Dorian says, laying on his back. Dorian sips his then places it away. He slowly unties the lace on the front of Zachariah's shirt then he slides his hands from the hem of his shirt to his chest, sliding the shirt up his body. Zachariah's face becomes a deep shade of red but he isn't drunk yet, he continues to sip the wine but he doesn't down it like the other glass but it is gone quickly. Dorian takes the glass away. "Sit up, Amatus." He mutters and Zachariah does and he slips the shirt from the younger man's. He tosses it somewhere, he doesn't care where. "Lay back down, on your stomach this time." He says quietly.

"Dorian, I--" Zachariah starts but Dorian hushes him with a kiss and he lays back, turning him over onto his stomach and running his hands down the younger man, he moves to straddle his ass. He pours another glass for Zachariah and hands it to him, anything to get the younger mage's mind off his family, of what ever awaited them later on. His hands cooled and the man below him shivered. He tensed then sighed as he relaxed under Dorian's touch. He slowly pressed his fingers down his back and from those he was rewarded with small sounds from Zachariah. "Dorian..."

"Hush, Amatus." Dorian whispers as Zachariah turns to putty in his hands. Half the wine is gone, Zachariah is partially drunk, and writhing by the time Dorian is done with him. "Turn back over now." And Zachariah does so, looking up at the man over him, bright red and biting his lip.

"How the hell... Where did you learn that?" Zachariah mutters and he leans up, kissing Dorian and without warning Zachariah is on top of him and thankfully Dorian had come to start wearing easier clothes. He slides his shirt from him and kissing down his chest then moves to unlace his pants, Zachariah had now gotten off the bed and was on his knees between Dorian's legs. Dorian props himself up on his elbows just as Zachariah takes him into his mouth and his head lulls back. Dorian moves to push himself to sit up. He smooths his hands through the blond's hair and gently urged Zachariah further. Zachariah moans around him and Dorian can only watch and urge him on, "Oh sweet maker, Amatus." He moans as Zachariah takes him in further, lulling his tongue around him. Dorian pulls Zachariah from him quickly. "Stand up." He growls and Zachariah does so quickly, looking down at Dorian who is sliding his hands up the younger mage's sides.

Dorian stands and kisses the man deeply, pressing his tongue past Zachariah's lips. Then Dorian pulls back, falling onto the bed with Zachariah. He sheds his own pants and Zachariah struggles from his pants and manages to kick them off. Dorian has no hesitation at taking hold of Zachariah and stroking him heavily. "Dorian, please." He whines, bucking his hips against the hand and moaning.

"Sound so sweet for me." Dorian licks his lips and moves to go in between  Zachariah's legs lifting them and using his own hips to keep them up. He presses two fingers past the younger mage's lips, feeling the heat of the man's tongue against the tips of his fingers. Zachariah moans around his digits an runs his tongue over them and just as quickly he pulled them from his mouth and trailed a wet trail down his chest to his navel down to his dick. Zachariah eagerly spreads his legs and presses his ass back. Dorian can't help but grin, he bites his lip and presses his finger into the man, he is rewarded with a loud moan and Zachariah's hand flies to his mouth. He bites down on his knuckle, trying to muffle his sounds. Dorian uses his free hand to pull the hand from Zachariah's mouth and pinned it above the man's head. With each finger he adds, the man below him gets louder. He teases him for far too long and suddenly Dorian is on his back with Zachariah looking lustfully down upon him.

"Last time you had your way." He huffs, "I want mine."

With that, Zachariah sink down on Dorian, he doesn't move for a short time, hissing out a moan between his teeth. Then he leans forward, pulling up then sinking back down onto him. Then Dorian takes initiative, bucking up into Zachariah, hitting something in him that makes him see stars. Zachariah's back arches and he moans loudly. He continues bucking up into him. He grips both Zachariah's wrists and starts to pull the man down onto him. "Dorian! _Dorian_ , fuck!" He moans and he gladly takes all he can get until he comes without warning. He screams loudly and Dorian comes into him. They stay in that position for a few moments before Zachariah falls from him and he curls to Dorian's side.

"My knees hurt." He mutters, "As do my arms."

"It was your choice to take initiative like that." Dorian smiles and wraps his arms around Zachariah. "But it did get your mind off it."

"Mmh, it did." The younger mage mutters and sits up, "You owe me another one of those massages..." He smirks and gets up from the bed, finding his shirt and slipping it on. Dorian slides into his place at the side of the bed then Zachariah falls to his side, cuddling up to him. Maybe this was the best time, the words were on his tongue again, much like they were when he danced at the Winter Palace. He sits up and leans on Dorian. He swallowed his pride and gently placed a hand to Dorian's face. The man looks to him and he kisses him.

"I think I am in love with you." The younger mage mutters against Dorian's lips and he can feel the man smile, maybe this wasn't the right time. Maybe he was too cheesy with it.

"I do believe I am in love with you as well." He hears and Zachariah can't help but smile.


	15. Ostwick secrets

The inquisitor, a Tervinter Magister, an elf, and a Qunari go to Ostwick... sounds like the opening line to a joke. The journey was long and the closer they got, the grimmer Zachariah looked, but not once did he express want to turn back, though it was clear enough on his face. Sara though had expressed enough that she only came because 'Quizzy needed the help.' This made the trip easier. Iron Bull and Sara's banter certainly made the trip bearable for Zachariah, and it occupied Dorian who put down any stupid ideas that arose.

They reached the snowy town of Ostwick, dusted white, but not at all as pretty as it was meant to be. "It looks better in the summer, I swear." Zachariah sighs as they enter the town. They are met by two templars, one in knight-captain garb and another a foot soldier. Zachariah looks down at the knight-captain then gets off from his horse.

"Knight-Captain Trevelyan..." He greets.

"Inquisitor Trevelyan." The other says in a deeper voice, though it is very similar to Zachariah's own. Then the younger mage smiles slowly and the tempar removes his helmet. He is an older man with graying hair that fell past his shoulders. His face was freckled and he was quite a few years older than Zachariah, he had quite the beard that was a darker shade of grey than the rest of his hair and a tattoo similar to Zachariah was on his right cheek in red ink. "Brother..." The man sighs and drops the helmet and does not hesitate to gather the young mage in his arms. Zachariah lets out a wheeze of air as it is squeezed out of him. He is then dropped back to his feet and the templar has a broad smile over his face, the lines if his face creasing in happiness.

"It is good to see you again, Malik." Zachariah sighs.

"Not at all good to be back." Says the templa- Malik. "Jason here will take your horses and what ever the Qunari is ridding on." Malik smiles and watches as everyone slides off their mounts.

Sara comes up behind Zachariah and looks over his shoulder at the older templar, "Who's he?" She asks, clearly she hadn't been listening at all. Malik just smiles down at her.

"My oldest brother and knight-captain of the circle of Ostwick." The young mage replies.

"The title's definitely more flashy than the job." The older man hums and turns to walk across a bridge to a very large building, resembling a prison.

"Malik." Zachariah says almost in a warning tone and the older man turns and shakes his head.

"I won't force you to stay here. Don't forget that I got you to the conclave..." The older man frowns, "You'll be staying with me in my home, away from the circle. I won't put you through this again." There is some sort of knowingness in the older man's eyes, clear as the blue in them. Something happened at this circle before the conclave... something aweful happened here.

They don't got across the bridge to the circle, they only look at it from afar. They end up roaming the town which is mostly populated by humans, there are a few merchant dwarfs and some elves from the alienage, built directly in the middle of the city. The buildings weren't old, nothing seemed historic except for a town hall and some houses.

"Nothin's old, innit..." Sara mutters. Dorian looks back to the two, walking at Zachariah's side. The Iron Bull seems to have figured out why these buildings were new, why some were not used, why some were boarded up and just barely holding together.

The people outside their homes and shops either stare at Zachariah or try their hardest to look away, there was no in between. The young mage doesn't look at them. His shoulders are back and his head is held high like how he acted at the winter palace but his eyes gave away everything he felt and there was only one emotion, hate.


	16. The Trevelyan home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, I'd like to apologize for the huge gap in updates, but writing on comes so often. Seriously, art is my strong suit but I enjoy seeing you guys comment. It's what reminds me to update. Love you all, looking forward to writing more.

The 'house' that Malik had so kindly mentioned was no house at all. It was a castle that stood out like a sore thumb against the bleak town that was Ostwick. The outer side that faced the town seemed as bleak as ever but once they entered it was like a whole different world and Zachariah walked it like he had never left. Boots clicked heavily against hardened stone floors that changed color in every room. The entry way was paved in rich blues, the living room with a soft red, the halls with a forest green, it was a nice change of pace. The one thing that Dorian noticed was missing was any siblings of the Trevelyans.

"You said you were the oldest. Who else is there?" Dorian asked the old templar. He smiles and shrugged.

"There is Mavis, the second youngest, Raul, the third oldest and Noah, the second oldest." He replied.

"Second youngest... you don't mean to tell me--"

"Zachariah is the wee baby of this family." He grinned at the Tevinter and walked away, leaving the younger man to imagine just how much younger Zachariah must be.

The empty void of the house is soon filled with a woman yelling as heavy feet tapped down the hall, running straight toward Zachariah. It isn't screaming, it's yelling and Dorian doesn't have enough time to process before a woman nearly half his size ran into Zachariah full on and knocked the man flat on his back. She had dark shoulder length hair and the exact same eyes as Zachariah and Malik. The mage below her wheezed as she stood up and off of him. Bull is laughing his ass of at the fact that Zachariah did not see that coming.

"Hi Mavis." The mage wheezed and got himself to his feet again. She only grinned triumphantly at him.

The emptiness of the house is soon filled with the sound of people. Zachariah's other brothers decided it best to join in and greet him. Raul looked similar to Zachariah, though his face was much more scarred and he lacked the tattoo that Mavis, Zachariah, Noah, and Malik had. Noah was a dark haired man with a thick beard and a child hanging onto his leg. There was so much going on, Dorian wasn't sure how long it had been before everything seemed to calm down and Zachariah was back at his side. Everyone was shown to their respective rooms except for Dorian who was pulled away from the crowd and deep into the castle until they reached a fairly nice looking room. It was huge and there was a balcony that overlooked the courtyard and faced the Ostwick circle. The sun had set and the light of the moon lit up the outside and candles and torches burned inside, providing flickering light across the room.

"I thought you should know..." Zachariah started and laid himself across the bed in the room. "I am the only mage in a family of Templars."

"I had thought so. But they all seem to care about you." Dorian replied and sat next to the man.

"They do. But I didn't want to come back because the circle was here. They cared, but they couldn't protect me from everything." The blond sat himself up and looked to his lover. A moment of silence passed then Zachariah spoke again, his voice trembled and it was something Dorian had never heard from him before. "I hate being here because I can remember it all. So... I apologize if I become short tempered with you in our stay or if I snap or just... just..."

"No." Dorian said with a frown. "I won't forgive you for losing your temper. You're in control of your actions now and no one is here to hurt you. You said you hated your family, but it's clear that they don't hate you. Who did you hate?"

Zachariah was silent for a moment and he shook his head. "My Father and My mother. I never held them in high regard." He confesses and pulls an old letter from his pocket. It's from before his father's death and it is half burnt from Zachariah's fits of rage, but the signature is clear. "Knight Captain Nigel Trevelyan." It's the inquisitor's father and the only man he's sure could make Zachariah feel smaller than he already did.

"Tell me." Dorian urged his lover to continue and wrapped an arm around him, leaning close and ready to listen and comfort the man.

"My mother always compared me to my brothers and at times, my own sister who was 'always going to be stronger than me'." He repeated the words he had rad in letters that came before. "My father always thought me a fluke, an abomination and a stain on our family's ledger. I fear that though my siblings may love me, they won't approve of anything I do and they won't understand if I told them that we..."

"I'd yell it to the heavens before I let some Templar tell me that this is unnatural or disgusting." Dorian cut him off. "In fact... I can do it right now." He grinned and got up, quickly sending Zachariah into a panic as he made his way to the balcony. There was no need for this gloom that fell over them both and Dorian was not about to allow Zachariah to cry. Zachariah attempted to wrap his arms around Dorian and keep him in place, but the Tevinter slipped from his grasp. It ended up being a chase around the room, Dorian just managing to evade Zachariah's grasp as he taunted him.

The chase ends with Zachariah's arms around Dorian's middle, pinning his arms to his sides and Dorian still taunting him. "What are you do afraid of? Ohhhh the Magister has corrupted the inquisitor! How scary!" He laughed before Zachariah kissed him, effectively quieting the man. They both smile at each other like a couple of scandalous teens and retire for the night. Dorian only later learns that the room that they stayed in had belonged to Zachariah before he was sent to the circle. It seemed to fit the younger mage and there were many images that flashed through Dorian's mind, like a young Zachariah. He could only hope there were paintings somewhere.


	17. A funeral fit for a Templar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Implied Mentions of physical abuse TW and ANGST a head! Don't worry, it'll be fine!

They had been there all but a few days before the funeral was set into motion. It was obvious that inviting Zachariah to his father's funeral was a last minute decision and one clearly not made by his mother. Malik, being the oldest was now head of the house though it seemed that he did not even wish to be a templar. The Iron Bulled asked about this and his disdain of being a Templar.

"You hate your job." Bull said.

"I take it that's not a question?" Malik asked.

"No. It's not."

"Mmph. I heard you qunari were perceptive." The templar huffed. "No. I don't like my job."

"Why?" Bull asked.

"I don't like that I must handle mages. They are my brother's kind and many of them don't deserve to be in in there."

"And yet you're the knight captain."

" _And yet I am the knight captain_." Malik repeated.

This was one of the many conversations the Bull and Malik had. They seemed to get along well enough and Bull found the man generally likable. This was one of the few pleasent things that happened in Ostwick. Zachariah became angry more then enough times for Dorian to be worried, but not once did he take it out on the Altus. The moment Dorian spoke to him, he calmed himself, even going to far as to dig his nails into his palms. Dorian had seen hate before, but not this sort. Zachariah loathed Ostwick and it seemed that all of four people in Ostwick loathed him.

They were brought to the circle for the Furneral. The knight captain and leader of the family Trevelyan said a few words, some of them fond, but not from his point of view. He spoke of his mother and how well she and Zachariah's father got along. Dorian had yet to meet Zachariah's mother but he had seen her. She was commanding woman who seemed to hold no favor for any of her children. She had graying brown hair that was similar to Malik's own. She stood tall and above everyone as if it was all she had. She was the very stereotype of a noble woman and Sera hated her and the way when she was around she seemed to suck the life out of Zachariah.

Now here in the circle, Zachariah seemed to stand a head taller than these mages around him as if he lead them. It was nothing Dorian had seen before but the scowl was apparent on the younger mage's face that he wished to leave at the closest given time. His father was put in the ground and each child dropped a handful of dirt onto the casket that held his father's ashes. It was common to burn the dead in the south, but it seemed that Zachariah's mother wished for it to seem as if he were still whole. They were about to leave before the Tevelyan mother spoke to Zachariah in a cold tone.

"Do you have nothing to say about your father?" She said, stressing the word 'father' as if to remind him that he was unwanted.

Zachariah turned and looked his mother dead in the eyes. "No." he said and walked away, leaving everyone behind to return to his room. This was the coldest Dorian had ever seen Zachariah, even when they met, he wasn't nearly this emotionless. But then again... the circles had been warring with the templars for quite some time before the conclave.

They met later in Zachariah's chambers and it was just as ripped to hell as it was in his tower at Skyhold. The curtains were burnt and magic burns covered the walls. The younger mage sat in the middle of it all, looking down at his hands.

Dorian knelt and wrapped his arms around the man. He isn't sure what happened but he's sure that Zachariah will tell him... in time. He felt arms wrap around him and Zachariah pressed into the crook of his neck, letting out a shaking breath. "No one can hurt you." Is all Dorian said and Zachariah sobbed. Or at least Dorian thought he did, he felt warm tears through his collar and he only held the man tighter. This wasn't sadness over his father's death, but it was anger. All of that anger built up and released in one breath. When Zachariah was done, he gently pulled back, but he did not release Dorian. Looked up at the Altus and gave a soft smile. The first one he had seem since they arrived here. Dorian returned it and gently kissed Zachariah's forehead.

"If you ever want to tell me anything, please do." The Altus said.

"I want to tell you something now, if that's okay?" Zachariah asked. His voice shook ever so slightly, but it was unlikely that he was going to cry again.

"It's alright." Dorian replied and reached, running his hand over Zachariah's cheek, then through his hair to cradle the back of his neck.

"I lead the revolt in this circle... it's how I got out." The marcher said. "And I paid my father back in kind for the years of torture he put me through. I did not kill him... but I did make sure he couldn't hurt anyone else ever again. I'm sure he drank himself to death."

Dorian remained silent as Zachariah explained how he lead mages from the circle and burned most of Ostwick. "I didn't wish to kill anyone. I just wanted to be free."

"I love you." Dorian said and pressed a kiss to the corner of Zachariah's mouth and hugged the man close once again. "I understand why you did what you did. I forgive you."

He felt Zachariah's chest heave as he breathed heavily. Though it had been unlikely that the man would cry again, it seemed that the impossible happened. This time it was barely any tears, just a smile that Dorian felt on his shoulder and the relieved breathes against his neck.

It was later decided that Zachariah and Dorian would tell the Trevelyans of their relationship and even if they rejected him... there would be nothing that stood in their way and they didn't need to care. Dorian and Zachariah slept in the same quarters that night, the younger mage pressed close to the Altus' chest in relief as they would leave this dread city soon.


	18. A Late Confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EHEHEHEHEHEHEHHHHEHEHEH! I AM BACK! COLLEGE EDITION! YEY! PROCRASTINATION! I MIGHT ACTUALLY START REGULAR UPDATES!

It was a slow morning when they woke. Neither Dorian nor Zachariah were sure of what time it was, only that it was still some semblance of morning. Dorian slipped out from Zachariah's arms and stood up, stretching greatly and looking at the mess of a room they now were in. It was a sad reminder of what had happened the night before, but it could be remedied. He picked up a few scattered books and pulled down the burnt curtains, throwing them in a trash bin next to the writing desk that was flipped over. Dorian placed that back as well. The marks that littered the walls were apparent and scarred the stone that was the walls. He ran his hands over some, hoping it was only charred remains, however he was wrong.

He continued to look over then until he found something that didn't look like Zachariah's magic at all. It was hidden by another burnt large curtain and it was a large mark, where lightening seemed to have struck and spread, even part of the book case next to the old mark was charred. He looked back to the sleeping form on the bed then to the mark and came to some sort of conclusion. It was the only thing that made sense. When Zachariah's magic manifested itself it wasn't as simple as making a small fire in his hands or accidentally setting the drapes on fire or holding such a small orb of energy it barely seemed like magic. Zachariah's had lashed out, struck the wall and likely other places now covered by paint and bookshelves. It seemed fitting. Such powerful and troubled magic for such a powerful and troubled man.

He walked back to the bed and placed a hand on Zachariah's cheek to wake him slowly. The man's face scrunched up in a cute way and he groaned quietly. "Cold hands..." He muttered and peaked his eyes open.

"It's a lot better than a frost spell up your shirt." Dorian smiled softly.

"You wouldn't dare."

"Try me."

Zachariah laughed tiredly and placed his hand over Dorian's before getting up and yawning. "Oh... we're... still here."

"Don't worry, it caught me off guard too." Dorian hummed.

Zachariah got up and out of bed, pulling his bag out from where he'd thrown it and pulled out a few comfortable garments. He had slept in stiff clothing with metal buttons and bits that have no doubt left marks. "Dorian... I want to warn you. Mourning in a noble family is... a process. A long and unnecessary process." He growled and slipped on a shirt, then his pants and tucked the loose shirt in. "Well, then... I'm totally not ready." He muttered and Dorian came up behind him, wrapping his arms around his midsection.

"I don't think there is a 'ready' in these types of situations." Dorian replied and kissed his cheek. "I don't think they'll hate you, if anything, I'm the evil Tevinter Magister, remember?"

"Ah, yes." Is all Zachariah said before he heard a knock at his door.

"Malik made breakfast. You wanna come down? I think he made tarts." Mavis, the second youngest as Dorian remembered, said softly through the door. "He might have made sugar bread too. Hurry before it's all gone. I think you're Qunari friend wants to marry him. He really likes the tarts. He's eating them all... there may only be a few left when you--"

Zachariah slipped from Dorian's arms all too quickly and opened the door, looking down at the smaller woman with a death glare. "If he so much as looks at my tarts I'm going to skin him and mount his horns." With that he rushed past the woman. Dorian knew Zachariah liked food but... maybe he should ask Malik for the recipe for those tarts.

Mavis looked back into the room and looked surprised to see Dorian there. She looked down the hall, then back to Dorian, then back down the hall and soon realization dawned upon her. "Oh. _Oh_. _OH_. _OHHHHHHHH_!" She nearly screamed and seemed to have stars in her eyes. "They are not gonna believe this!!" He squealed. "GO! Quickly! I can't hold my tongue forever!"

Zachariah made it seem like he was so afraid of rejection, but Southern Thedas had no problem with the fact that people of the same sex loved each other. Maybe it was different for nobles, but still, it confused him to no end. He rushed off down the hall, leaving Mavis beaming.

He came upon a smaller dining room, about the size of skyhold's kitchen where all of the siblings minus one Mavis, Sera, Bull, and Zachariah had crammed them selves into the table. Malik stood over a stove with a much too funny pink apron on. Malik was skinnier than Dorian first thought he was. All of his clothing seemed to bulk him up and square of his shoulders and though he was fit, he was much skinnier than Zachariah and had a lithe build. He turned and smiled at Dorian and made the mage a plate. "Quickly, before I run out of ingredients. I think the Qunari might drag me back with you."

"If you keep cooking like this, fuck yeah I am. I'll even beg." The Iron Bull replied as he scarfed down an odd looking pastry. "Krem won't believe that I actually had good food in Ostwick and not slop. I NEED PROOF."

Malik laughed, "I must say it's tempting." He finished off a few more things before taking a seat at the head of the table. Dorian managed to squeeze in between Zachariah and Noah's son, a young man of about 10, he smiled up at Dorian, missing his two front teeth. Dorian smiled back and began to eat and he was shocked. Malik's cooking was... heavenly. He could see why his lover would kill for it. He heard the shutting of a door and the room suddenly went silent. All of the children's backs straightened and they became quieter than a mouse, one could hear a pin drop. Dorian turned to see none other than Mother Trevelyan in the room. Malik stood there with a plate ready for her to take and she did, without so much as a thank you. Then, just as everything seemed so awkward and stone like, Mavis crashed into the room.

"MAGISTER! DID YOU TELL THEM!? DID YA-- oh..." She looked to her mother and also straightened. "I'm sorry. I know a proper lady isn't supposed to be loud."

Her mother rolled her eyes, "You're no proper lady." She replied and looked to Dorian, gaze ice cold. "What is she screaming about, Tevinter?"

"Ah..." Dorian could hardly find the words to speak. He felt so small in her harsh gaze, he could have sworn his father was in the room. He tried to speak again but was cut off with the sound of a wooden chair, dragging against the stone floor. He turned back to Zachariah who was now standing. He looked down at Dorian, his eye soft, confident, but terrified. He offered the man his hand and Dorian took it, standing up. He would have released the Marcher's hand if it weren't for the tight grip Zachariah held. It wasn't painful, but he made sure that Dorian couldn't let go. He made sure DOrian wouldn't spare him from ridicule.

"We... Dorian and I, have been... seeing each other, I suppose." He looked towards his mother and he could see no shock on her face. Dorian didn't dare look away from his lover. "I love him." He gazed at Zachariah, who's hands were cold in his and his face pale.

"You did this to spite me, boy?" Mother Trevelyan asked. "You've done it before and you learned it was a passing fancy. But this... a tevinter, a magister no less!" She scoffed. "I suppose I should be happy, you won't bring any other mages into this world with a woman."

" _Mother_." Malik slammed his hand on the table, stern, not at all as wary as the other siblings were. "That's quite enough. I should remind you, Father left nothing in his will about _you_. It is by my good graces that you're allowed to stay and if you say another word to Zachariah or Dorian, I will be forced to ask you to leave."

The older woman sputtered and she nearly dropped the ceramic plate in her hands. She could find nothing to say and it was clear than none had spoken to her in that manner before. Dorian felt Zachariah's hand shaking in his own and he returned his attention to the younger mage who was crying, but he smiled. Dorian wrapped his arms around him and pet his head. His poor inquisitor pretended too often that he had no emotions, Dorian knew the feeling when they all poured out. Noah's son had walked around his chair and looked up at the two. He tugged on Dorian's sleeve.

"Does that mean she'll stop being a witch?" He asked, Noah simply laughed all to loudly and pulled his son into his lap. The young boy looked confused. "Hey, I'm serious."

"Listen kid, I doubt it. But she might talk a lot less." Bull replied.

"That works too." The boy said and slipped from his father's lap to return to his chair and start eating again.

Dorian let Zachariah sit down as he still tried to find his bearings. "Everything's okay now." Dorian cooed.

"I'm emotional, but I don't need to be coddled." Zachariah huffed and wiped away a few stray tears.

"Good. Ah... why didn't your father leave anything in his will for your mother?" He asked.

Malik replied, "She's not our really mother. Could you imagine? That ogre pushing out five kids? Pfft!" He picked up a few empty dishes from the table. "She's never had a child in her life. Zachariah was the last child our mother had and she died after he was born. All Zachariah knew was _her_."

"Our father, being the knight-captain needed someone to take care of us so he looked around and found a suitable wife that looked similar to his first." Zachariah continued.

"He was a bad judge in character." Malik sighed and sat down. "I'm happy Zachariah's finally found someone. People often leave his side too quickly to see the parts of him we know."

"Yeah, I was so friggin' psyched! I didn't even know is Zachariah would even let someone that close." Mavis added.

"He's a sweet boy, you hurt him, I break your legs." Raul said between bites. Dorian just realized that he had never actually stopped eating, even with mother Trevelyan in the room.

"Do I get a new uncle now?" Noah's son piped up. "He'd be a lot better than the ones I have now."

"What's wrong with Uncle Viira?" Noah asked the child.

"He's mean and he smells like lake water." The child huffed then cringed at the thought of his own uncle.

The family laughed and even Sera seemed to like all of the siblings. She hated nobles, but these templars... they were alright. The Iron Bull held a certain fascination for the eldest Trevelyan and continued to beg for at least the recipe if Malik wasn't coming. The knight-captain refused.

Dorian had never felt so relieved and loved in his life. Zachariah still held him in his arms and since it seemed like the man wasn't letting go any time soon, Dorian saw it only fit to sit his lap to which the entirety of the Trevelyan family either screeched or giggled at. (All positive.)

"I love you." Dorian heard from behind him. He could practically feel Zachariah's smile at his back.

"You know I love you too." He replied.

**Author's Note:**

> ANDERS AND HAWKE WILL SHOW UP LATER WHEN THEY ARE NEEDED. THEY ARE MORE OF A SIDE ROMANCE BECAUSE THEY NEED CLOSURE AND NOT FRIGGING JUST HAWKE BRINGING UP ANDERS.


End file.
